Legacy
by Diamondblade1
Summary: Sheppard's team encounter a race of technologically advanced people who are led by a Wraith who claims that he is half Ancient.
1. First Encounter

"We should have taken the Jumper," Rodney complained breathlessly as they hiked back to the gate. The village they had been visiting was situated several miles from the gate, but John had declined to take the Jumper since it was such a nice day and 'The exercise will be good for Rodney.'

He was regretting his decision somewhat though, since Rodney had whinged about the forced hike all the way to the village and was proceeding to do the same thing all the way back. Ronon was frowning unhappily at the oblivious scientist, and even Teyla was looking exasperated.

"We're nearly back at the gate,' John said to Rodney, trying to sound far calmer than he felt.

Rodney glanced up hopefully, and then frowned crossly. "We're barely halfway there, Major,' he grumbled. "Just because you can't judge distances is no reason to get my hopes up. Besides we would have been back ages ago if we'd taken the Jumper like I said. But no, we have to walk for hours to visit the small village of hopelessly primitive people, which was a complete waste of time I might add, and then hike back again, wasting valuable time where I could have been doing something useful."

John sighed, wishing that he was anywhere but here. Rodney's company was difficult at the best of times, but when he was in a bad mood like today it was impossible. He secretly suspected the rest of the scientists were glad when he went offworld, simply so that they could get some work done without Rodney yelling at them every five minutes.

He regretted his wish moments later when the Murphy's Law of the Pegasus universe kicked in and the still distant Stargate dialled in. It was still for a moment, and then began to release a stream of Darts. John stared at them in horror before yelling at his team to take cover in the nearby forest. Teyla and Ronon took off immediately, running towards the relative safety of the trees, and after a moment's hesitation Rodney took off after them as fast as he could.

John shook his head as he took up the rear, constantly glancing over his shoulder to check on the Darts whereabouts. Rodney's fitness had improved considerably since he joined the team, but he still tended to lag behind the others. Still, the sight of Darts screaming overhead was certainly making him move faster that ever before. If only he could somehow incorporate that sort of motivation into his training sessions…

Looking back, he realised that the lead Darts were just behind them. Rodney had yet to reach the fringes of the forest and was in danger of been caught in one of the Darts culling beams. With a muttered curse, John stopped and swung around to fire at the nearest Dart with his P90. A lucky shot disabled the ship and it swerved to the side, leaving a heavy smoke trail behind.

Glancing back at Rodney, he sighed in relief at the sight of the scientist disappearing into the trees. He moved to follow, only to be swept up in a culling beam from another Dart.

A rhythmic thudding sound welcomed John back to consciousness. With a groan he tried to gain enough awareness to figure out what was making the noise, only to be attacked by hundreds of pins and needles. 'That's right', he thought, 'Wraith Darts'. He frowned, vaguely remembering gaining consciousness momentarily earlier only to be shot with a Stunner. Hence the pins and needles. Rodney hadn't been exaggerating about the sensation, John decided with a grimace.

He realised that the thudding had stopped, and managed to open his eyes a crack. An extremely blurry face was looking down at him. John blinked and the face swam into focus. A young man with messy brown hair was peering at him curiously. At the sight of John's open eyes he smiled cheerfully.

"Ah, good, you're awake. How are you feeling?" he asked loudly – or at least as far as John's headache was concerned.

"Terrible," John muttered, forcing himself to sit up. The young man watched him intently. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" John asked him coldly.

The man shrugged. "My name is Kalak. And I don't really want anything from you, although some company would be nice. This place is incredibly dull." He gestured around the room and John followed his line of sight. They were in a Wraith prison cell, probably on a hive ship.

"Oh," John said, mentally cursing his slight lapse. Of course they were on a Wraith ship – the creatures didn't give up their dinner that easily. "Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," he said finally, offering his hand.

Kalak looked at it hesitantly for a moment before shaking hands. "So why are you here, John Sheppard?" he asked.

John frowned. "I could ask you the same thing," he replied.

Kalak nodded happily. "You could. And I'd probably give you the same answer – information, right? They only keep the ones they want to question in the cells. The others simply go straight into the pods."

"You seem awfully cheerful for someone who is been held prisoner by the Wraith," John remarked suspiciously, thoughts of Wraith Worshipper spies running though his head.

Kalak lifted a shoulder in a sort of half-shrug. "We are alive, yes? There is still time for my people to find us. If there is still hope, why waste time being depressed?"

"Your people will try to rescue you from the Wraith?" John asked, surprised. "You must be fairly important for them to risk that."

"We are equals," Kalak replied softly. "What about you, John Sheppard? Are you important enough to your people for them to risk boarding a Wraith Hive ship to retrieve you?"

"It's different," John said frowning, "my people don't leave anyone behind. They will find me and rescue me. We can take you with us"

Kalak nodded. "It is kind of you to offer, John Sheppard. We shall see whose people get here first, hmm?"

John nodded. "You do realise that we're in space?" he asked curiously. "Your people won't be able to gain access to the ship."

To his surprise Kalak laughed. "Sure, if they intended to simply walk aboard. The Wraith aren't the only ones in the galaxy capable of space flight."

"I thought the Wraith frowned upon that sort of technological advancement?" John asked, surprised. So far the Genii were the most advanced race they'd encountered in the galaxy and the Atlantean's far exceeded their limited technology.

"They do," Kalak agreed, "unless you're strong enough to oppose them. We generally try to keep a low profile, which helps a bit."

"You're fighting the Wraith?" John asked, interested.

Kalak shrugged. "More defending ourselves from them, I guess."

"Perhaps our people could work together. Share knowledge, medicines, technology, that sort of thing. I'm sure there's a lot we could learn from one another," John suggested hopefully.

A guarded look appeared on Kalak's face. "Perhaps," he acknowledged. "You would need to speak to a Representative of the People. They handle all the new alliances. If we survive this, I can give you the gate address for a planet where you can find one of them if you like."

John nodded. "I'd appreciate that. Our government is a bit like that too – everything has to be handled by the right people."

Kalak grinned suddenly, as if struck by a funny thought.

John raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Does it not seem funny that we are sitting here waiting for death, yet we are discussing the future?" Kalak asked, appreciating the irony of the situation.

John shrugged. "I'm not planning on dying, not if I can help it," he replied. "I've got a life that I intend on living after we get out of here." He pauses and glances at the control for the doors, safely out of reach in the corridor. "It's a shame we don't have any throwing knifes to try and open the doors with," he remarked.

It was Kalak's turn to look surprised. "That would be extremely bad for the door controls," he commented. "And they were very careful to check for weapons when they brought us here."

John didn't reply, instead studying the corridor carefully through the webbed doors of their prison. He liked the young man – he was good company – but he wished that he could be sure whether he was genuine or simply a spy planted by the Wraith in hopes of gathering information. So far he hadn't asked any suspicious questions, but he might be simply biding his time, trying to gain his trust. On the other hand, if what he'd said was true, and there was another group of people out there with the technology to fight the Wraith, then they needed to try and form an alliance with them. They could use as many allies against the Wraith as possible.

The sound of footsteps alerted him to the approaching Wraith before they entered the corridor leading to the prison cell. They stopped in front of the cell and studied the captives through the door. Finally one of them gestured to the control pad and the doors slid open. The lead Wraith stepped inside the cell, closely followed by two drones. The leader looked between John and Kalak, as if trying to decide which one to take. After a moments hesitation the leader gestured towards John and the two drones moved to grab him.

To John's surprise Kalak stepped in front of him. "Wait," he said to the lead Wraith. "Take me first. The Queen will want to speak with me before him. She has been planning my capture for some time."

The lead Wraith hesitated, a brief look of indecision crossing his face. Finally he nodded to the drones and they grabbed Kalak and pulled him roughly from the cell, leaving John standing there in shock. Had Kalak just sacrificed himself in order to spare John, or was this simply a spy taking an opportunity to report to the Queen without creating too much suspicion?

He paced the cell fretfully after the Wraiths had left, disturbed by Kalak's actions. What if the man was genuine? Would he have been able to offer himself in the place of someone he'd just met? If it were a member of his team that was in danger then he would've without thinking twice, but for a complete stranger? He frowned, unsure.

About an hour later Kalak was returned and unceremoniously dumped ermionusly Kalak was returnedomplete stranger? He frowned, unsure.

to himself. He was there and Kalak was ol pad and thon the floor of the cell. John could see at a glance that the man was about 30 years older than he'd been when he'd left. With a wary glance at the retreating Wraith, John crouched down next to Kalak to see if he was alright. A low moan confirmed that he was still alive and awake.

With considerable effort Kalak managed to sit-up, although he had some difficulty staying upright. John sat next to him, supporting him with his shoulder, and studied the man curiously. Apart from the age, he bore a blood encrusted feeding mark on his chest, both testimonies to his treatment over the past hour. "Are you alright?" he asked him, wincing to himself at the stupid question. Of course Kalak wasn't alright – he'd just survived a Wraith feeding after all, although it was possible that complications caused by the feeding could still kill him even if they did manage to escape the Wraith vessel.

"I'll be okay," Kalak replied, his voice tight with pain. "I wasn't expecting it to hurt quite that much though."

John nodded. "It's hard to believe that anything can be that excruciatingly painful," he said with a slight frown.

Kalak glanced at him in surprise. "You have been fed on by a Wraith before?" he asked, eyeing John's youthful features somewhat doubtfully.

"Several times," John replied, a trace of remembered horror momentarily darkening his face. "I got lucky."

"Ah, the Gift of Life," Kalak said knowingly. At John's questioning look he qualified. "My people have studied the Wraith for generations. It is hard to kill something which you don't understand."

"That's part of our problem," John admitted. "We know so little about the Wraith it is hard to predict their actions or to understand their reasoning."

Kalak managed a weak laugh. "I suspect that you have to be a Wraith to truly understand the reasoning of the Wraith," he remarked.

John smiled in agreement, and studied the wearied older features of the other man. "Get some rest," he suggested. "I'll keep watch."

Kalak nodded. "Not a bad idea," he said tiredly, lying back on the floor.

They were left undisturbed for several long hours while John alternated between intently watching the corridor outside for any sign of Wraith movement and checking on Kalak as he slept. To his relief the man seemed to be improving as he slept. His breathing came easier, and in the relaxed state of sleep the unnatural aging didn't look quite as bad as it had earlier.

He was beginning to think that they'd been forgotten about when the sound of approaching footsteps alerted him to a nearby Wraith. Quickly he shook Kalak gently, waking the man from his deep sleep. Kalak looked at him blankly for a moment before recognition sparked in his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked blearily.

"There's a Wraith coming," John hissed at him.

Instant concern filled Kalak's face, and he struggled to his feet. He swayed slightly, but managed to keep his balance and walk over to door, a slight stagger marring his once graceful step.

They didn't have to wait long before the Wraith came into view. He was alone, and dressed in the style of the commander Wraith, with the flowing black leather coat and the long straight blond hair. John hoped that the lack of drones meant that he didn't intend to take them for questioning.

The Wraith made his way to the cell doors and peered in briefly before waving the doors open. His cat-like eyes swept around the room, taking in the aged Kalak and the younger John. John tensed, preparing to fight if necessary, although experience had taught him that he had little chance in a one-on-one fight with a Wraith, especially without weapons.

To his surprise Kalak stepped forward with a smile on his face. "Thorac," he said gladly. "You got here quicker than I'd expected."

The Wraith named Thorac nodded. "Not fast enough," he replied studying the man's features. "How do you feel?"

"I'm alright," Kalak replied cheerfully. "They didn't take too much."

Thorac nodded and moved back towards the open door, Kalak close behind. They reached the corridor, and Thorac paused looking back at where John was standing in shock. "Is your friend coming?" he asked Kalak.

Kalak looked back too, and gestured for John to join them. "It's alright," he said reassuringly. "He's a friend. You'll be quite safe, I promise."

John hesitated, unwilling to trust either of them. Still, he decided, following one Wraith was probably better than waiting in a cell with a whole ship full of the things. Cautiously, he moved to follow.

Thorac led the way though the ship quickly, keeping to the less travelled portions of the ship. Occasionally he would pause to check something on a small device in his pocket, and a couple of times he had them duck into a dark corridor or room while several other Wraith passed nearby. From this John deduced that the Wraith – Thorac – wasn't supposed to be there. He was probably from a rival hive, he decided, although it seemed strange that he would go to all this trouble just to rescue one Worshipper. There had to be something that he was missing, he decided in frustration, but he had no idea what that might be.

Finally they reached the Dart Bay, and after carefully checking the area was clear, Thorac led them to a Dart parked to one side. John followed reluctantly, although he had no intention of allowing the Wraith to collect him in the culling beam. As they neared the ship however, the dart disappeared to reveal a long oblong ship in it's place. It vaguely reminded John of the Puddlejumpers, although this ship was a dark grey in colour with a smooth surface. It was also lacking the flat front of a Puddlejumpers, a smooth curved nose taking its place. All in all in actually looked more impressive than the Ancient design ships, which surprised John considerably. He'd had no idea that the Wraith had advanced to this level of technology – especially to the use of a cloaking device to hide the ship. How many other Wraith ships couldn't they see because of cloaks like this one? he wondered.

The rear of the ship slid open as they approached, revealing the interior of the ship. Again, the design was reminiscent of a Puddlejumper, and John suspected that the design might have been inspired by such. Inside there were several humans dressed in the same style clothing as Kalak. All of them carried several weapons – the most popular being some kind of blaster – although John could see a couple of swords and knifes. To John's considerable surprise there were no other Wraith on board. Evidently Thorac was extremely confident of the humans' loyalty to allow them to be so heavy armed around him.

Thorac nodded to the humans and headed for the front of the ship. Two of the people moved to help Kalak inside the ship and over to a bench where he could sit down. Considering his recent experience with the Wraith Queen he was looking remarkably good, and he'd had no trouble keeping up with the rapid pace that Thorac had set thorough the Hive ship. John reluctantly followed Kalak into the ship and took a vacant seat opposite the man. A couple of the other people looked at him curiously, but no one seemed overly surprised to see him.

Looking at Kalak carefully John decided that he must have overestimated the amount of life drained from the man – he only looked about 20 years older than when John had first met him. Perhaps the shock of the change had made him seem older.

At the front of the ship Thorac was rapidly powering the vessel up. It was unlikely that the Wraith would be able to detect his presence through the ships shields, but it didn't pay to linger, especially if they discovered that the prisoners had escaped. The controls responded rapidly to his touch, and within seconds the ship rose smoothly into the air and glided out of the Dart Bay. As they exited the Hive he sensed a sudden flare of anger from within the ship and smiled slightly to himself. They had noticed the absence of their captives.

Accelerating smoothly, the ship quickly drew away from the larger Hive much faster than a Dart would've been able to. Once he judged that they were a safe distance he plotted the course back to the nearest Stargate and set the ship to follow automatically. Checking to confirm that the ships cloak was working properly, he turned to take stock of his passengers.

Kalak was considerably older than when he'd been captured, but fortunately still alive. He surmised that this meant the Hive Queen had fed upon him in an attempt to gain information, but doubted that she had succeeded. His people were remarkably resistant for a species that was considered to be nothing but food by most of the Wraith. Studying Kalak carefully he decided that the man would be fine, although he would require a lot of rest in order to fully recover.

With a satisfied nod he turned his attention to the other man, the one who Kalak had brought with him when they escaped. He had no objection to collecting other captives along the way, so long as it didn't place any of his people in danger, but there was always a risk to openly acknowledging the association between him and his human companions. That was, after all, why the Hive had targeted Kalak – they had hoped he would provide information on his leader's whereabouts.

The man was sitting opposite Kalak, and although he seemed nervous he was doing a good job of hiding it. He seemed fascinated by the design of the ship, studying the interior carefully. He glanced towards the front of the ship and noticed Thorac studying him. Thorac was intrigued by the range of emotions that passed swiftly across his face – hatred, anger, disgust, curiosity, and something else that he couldn't quite identify. The expressions disappeared almost before they had begun and an impassive mask took their place. The change was so quick that Thorac doubted a human would've been able to notice. Living among the Wraith had made him adept at identifying complex emotions though the slightest change in expression since the Wraith were not an overly expressive race. Most of their communication was achieved through the mental network that linked the members of a hive, and emotions were conveyed by feel rather than physical indications.

After a moments thought he turned to his co-pilot, Shaya. "Would you ask the human to come and speak with me?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Certainly," she said, already moving towards the rear of the ship.

Thorac forced himself to study the controls in front of him as he listened to the conversation in the rear of the ship.

Shaya reached the newcomer swiftly, although she had to work her way through large group of his people that had refused to be left behind on this little rescue mission. "Thorac would like to talk to you," she told him politely.

"I'm sure he would," he replied sarcastically, and Thorac smiled briefly at the man's insolence. He would be a strong meal – perhaps that was why the Hive had singled him out for the Queen.

"Well?" asked Shaya impatiently as the man failed to move.

"I'm comfortable here," he protested.

With a growl Shaya grabbed the man and dragged him to the front of the ship. She shoved him into the co-pilots seat and stepped back, although she kept her blaster ready for instant use.

The man looked a little shaken, but managed to grin insolently. "She's been spending too much time around you," he remarked to Thorac.

Thorac considered that for a moment and nodded once. "Perhaps," he replied. "What is your name?"

"Why should I tell you?" the man asked calmly. "It's not like your kind share their names."

Thorac suppressed a sigh. Spirited humans were more interesting, but also more trouble by far. "I am known as Thorac," he replied quietly. "And Wraith-names cannot be expressed verbally, even should one wish to share their name with you."

The man frowned at that, but remained silent. Thorac turned and cast a questioning glance at Kalak, who had managed to make his way to a seat near the front of the ship.

"His name is John Sheppard. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," Kalak supplied helpfully.

John glared at Kalak. "Wraith-Worshiper," he spat, the disgust clearly evident in his voice. Thorac opened his mouth to reply, but Kalak beat him to it.

"Do I look like a Wraith-Worshiper to you?" he asked angrily. At Thorac's amused chuckle and Shaya's raised eyebrow he paused, and tried again. "How many Wraith would risk their own lives to rescue a human from an enemy Hive ship? Thorac's different. We are his companions, not his slaves. We're here because we choose to be, not because we think he's some kind of god or superbeing."

"His companions, huh?" John said sarcastically. "That's nice – until he gets hungry."

Both Kalak and Shaya's faces darkened at that remark, but Thorac interrupted before they could get into an argument which might last for hours. "Enough," he said. "He is young. Understanding takes time. Let him be."

His companions didn't look happy, but they nodded reluctantly, and stepped back.

Thorac studied John curiously for a minute, while John looked back at him – slightly apprehensive, but managing to disguise it fairly well. "Where do you want to be dropped off?" Thorac asked him eventually, hiding a grin at John's astonishment. "You can't come with us, so we'll leave you on a planet with a Stargate, or your home planet if you prefer – especially if your gate is in orbit."

"A planet with a Stargate," John said finally, his voice heavy with suspicion. "The gate to our planet is shielded, and I doubt they'll let you in."

Thorac nodded. "Understandable. Your people are fortunate to have a Lantean shield for your Gate."

John glared at him. "I never said anything about the Lanteans."

"No, but they are the only race I know of to develop effective protection for the Stargates," Thorac replied calmly. "I assume your people have a method of communicating your identity before travelling through the Gate?"

John smiled. "That's classified information. I'm afraid your security clearance isn't high enough for me to divulge that."

Thorac looked at him sceptically, but refrained from commenting. His companions weren't so forbearing.

"Thorac saved your life," Shaya told him coldly, "the least you could do is be polite."

"He's not your enemy," Kalak tried reassuringly. "We'll let you go on the nearest safe planet with a Stargate, and that'll be it. No hidden agenda, I promise."

"My people would've found me," John insisted. "It just takes a little time."

"Time which you didn't have," Shaya pointed out. "Would it really hurt to be grateful?"

Thorac noticed the man involuntarily brush his hand across his chest and frowned. "It's alright," he told his companions. "John Sheppard has every right to dislike the Wraith."

Shaya frowned in disagreement, but respected her leader's judgement enough not to argue the point. Kalak, who had also caught the brief gesture, only nodded in acknowledgement of Thorac's words.

They travelled in silence for a little while, John casting quick, alert glances around, trying to take in everything. The controls of the ship particularly fascinated him, and he wondered if he would be able to fly the ship or whether it was controlled by a mental link like the Hive ships and the Puddlejumpers. There was definitely a similarity between Thorac's ship and the Ancient ships, John decided, his mind taking note of all the familiar features of the design. It was a lot more fancy than the Ancient ships though, which seemed to have been designed for quick transport, nothing more.

It didn't take long for the fast moving vessel to reach the designated Stargate floating in orbit above a green-brown planet, far quicker than a Puddlejumper would've made the same trip. Looking at the gate they were approaching drew John's attention to one feature of the ship that was definitely different from the Ancient design Puddlejumpers – the lack of an internal DHD. If the Stargate had been on a planet he supposed they could always get out and dial it manually, but he doubted that that would be possible in space – especially since the space gates lacked a manual control.

Almost in answer of his unspoken question, Thorac gestured at the screen and a dialling program appeared to one side of the main screen. It scrolled down rapidly through a list of Stargate addresses – too fast for John to follow – before selecting one. Since Thorac hadn't actually touched any of the manual controls John decided that he must be interfacing mentally with the ship. He wondered about the inclusion of the physical controls if the Wraith didn't actually need them to fly the ship, but supposed that he might use the humans to pilot the ship sometimes.

Before the dialling program could activate though, the Stargate dialled in. Thorac looked at it in surprise – the Wraith were the only ones who used the Spacegates, and it was unlikely that they would invade the territory of this particular Hive – even with the current shortages.

Moments later a Puddlejumper flew out of the gate and cloaked. Thorac stared at the gate shocked, and frowned. "A Lantean Gateship," he muttered quietly. "I have not seen one of those in a long time."

Behind him Kalak shifted uncertainly. "Didn't the Ancestors all leave thousands of years ago?" he asked.

"They did," Thorac confirmed, pulling up an image of the ship on the screen. Even though the Puddlejumper was cloaked, his sensors were able to detect it from the rest of the surrounding area. It was speeding away from them – and towards the Wraith Hive ship they had just left. "I can't imagine why they would return."

"Perhaps…" Sheya began, before trailing off doubtfully.

Thorac looked at her quizzically. "What?" he asked.

"There have been rumours among some of the open worlds that a group of people travelled to the City of the Ancestors from another galaxy and have taken up residence there. Or at least they had. It was destroyed about a year ago by the Wraith. Some of the travellers survived though." She looked at John as she spoke. "Apparently they have some or all the powers of the Ancestors."

Thorac tapped a finger against the control panel thoughtfully. "That would explain a lot," he said softly, half to himself. With a frown he turned to John. "Are these your people?"

John had been following the progress of the Puddlejumper with considerable dismay. Eventually Thorac's ship was shielded somehow, so they must think that he was still on the Hive ship. At Thorac's query he shrugged. "They might be," he said, trying to appear unconcerned. "Why do you want to know?"

Thorac suppressed a sigh. Being a Wraith seemed to make people instinctively distrust him. "Because they are heading towards a Wraith Hive Ship," he said patiently, as if to a child. "The only three reasons that I can think of for them doing that would be that they are either unaware of the ship, they are suicidal, or they are attempting a rescue – which is clearly the same as option two."

John frowned at that. "We don't leave people behind," he said, as if that explained everything.

Shaya glared at John. "So they ARE your people, then?" John nodded reluctantly. "Couldn't you have just said so then, instead of sprouting rubbish?" she snarled.

John was surprised by how fierce she looked. Strangely enough she reminded him more of the Wraith than Thorac did, who was watching her rave with an expression of long-suffering amusement on his face. It actually made him seem more…human.

"What's the name of your ship?" Thorac asked John.

Thrown off-centre by the unexpected question, John hesitated a moment before answering. "We call them Puddlejumpers. That's probably Puddlejumper One."

Thorac raised a brow-ridge at the unusual name, but declined to comment. Instead he stabbed at a control and activated the communication system. Glancing at the available frequencies listed on the screen, he selected the one that had been used by the Lanteans in times past. He went to press the transmit button, then hesitated, looking back at Shaya.

"It might be best if you did the talking," he told her.

Shaya nodded, quickly grasping his reasoning. "So that they'll actually listen to us," she said, not needing his brief nod to confirm her statement. Reaching for the control panel, she pressed transmit.

"This is the Protectorate ship 'Atehus' calling Puddlejumper One. Please respond."

John listened hopefully for a reply – the sooner he was off this ship and away from these crazy people the better – but there was only silence.

Thorac didn't seem concerned by the lack of reply – he merely made a few adjustments to the communication system and nodded at Shaya to try again.

This time there was a brief flare of static and then voices could be heard over the intercom.

"Where's the transmission coming from?" Teyla was saying, and John could picture her standing there staring at the control panel in concentration.

"It's a short wave frequency, so it's probably from somewhere nearby," Rodney was heard to reply. "Possibly from the Hive Ship, but it sounded like a human."

"Probably one of their damn worshippers," Ronon muttered.

"Can we reply to it?" another voice asked, one which John didn't recognise. Probably one of the marines with the gene, since the ship wasn't travelling in the less than straight lines that Rodney was famous for.

"Hang on," Rodney said, his statement punctuated by several thumps and other ominous noises. "It looks like its already transmitting back to the other ship. Probably some sort of auto response thing the Ancients had programmed into their ships."

"So they can hear us?" Teyla asked.

"Probably," Rodney replied. He cleared is throat. "Um, this is Puddlejumper. Can you hear us Atehus?"

"We can hear you," Shaya advised emotionlessly, her voice betraying no hint of the amusement dancing in her eyes. "We advise that you are heading towards a Wraith Hive ship. We recommend that you divert to an alternative course in order to avoid detection."

There was a lengthy pause, then Teyla responded. "We appreciate your warning, but we are aware of the ship. There is a friend of ours on board and we intend to get him back."

"If you are referring to Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, then he is safe and sound aboard our ship. You may speak with him, if you wish," Thorac interjected, carefully keeping his voice low so that the distinctive accent of the Wraith wasn't as obvious.

"John?" Rodney asked hesitantly. "Are you there?"

"I'm here Rodney," John said warmly, though his eyes continuously scanned the small ship for signs of trouble. "I'd really appreciate it if you guys would get me out of here and back home as soon as possible, though."

"Of course, John," Teyla said calmly, with just a hint of worry in her voice. "Rodney, is there anywhere nearby that we can stop and collect John?"

"The planet nearest the Stargate is capable of sustaining human lifeforms," Thorac remarked, still keeping his voice lowered. "There should be a large clearing suitable for landing on the day side at these coordinates," he informed them, while swiftly inputting the location and transmitting it to the other ship.

"Got it," Rodney said after a moment's pause. "We'll meet you there."

"Understood and out," Chaya replied, and closed the communication channel.

Thorac made a few mental adjustments to the ship's course, and accelerated towards the planet at a speed far greater than any Puddlejumper was capable of. Within minutes they were approaching the atmosphere, and to John's horror, showing no signs of slowing down.

"We'll burn up in the approach at this speed," he said to Thorac, who was paying far too little attention to the controls for John's liking.

Thorac merely smirked at him. "This ship is capable of withstanding a little heat," was the only reply he gave.

To John's disbelief and admiration the ship survived the fast descent without any problems, and pulled up sharply to park in the designated meeting location. Stepping outside into the cool breeze, he noted that the outside of the ship was completely unscathed, and was even cool to the touch. Not even the Ancient or Asgard shields could achieve that kind of protection.

It took the others another twenty minutes to arrive in the Puddlejumper at a much more reasonable rate of descent. Kalak and a few of the other people crowded into Thorac's ship had traipsed out to check out the arrival of the Colonel's friends, and to see what the Ancient ship looked like. John noticed that Thorac made a point to remain inside the ship, out of immediate sight.

As soon as John's team had landed, a couple of Thorac's people headed directly for the Puddlejumper and began examining the outside in fascination. Sort of like the fascination that Rodney was displaying as soon as he caught sight of Thorac's ship…

"That's incredible," he exclaimed. "I had no idea that this level of technology even existed in this galaxy. It might even be beyond the Ancient's technology. I have to examine it," he rambled, making a beeline for the ship.

John quickly grabbed his arm firmly. "No you don't," he insisted. "We have enough trouble understanding the stuff the Ancients left lying around without messing with something like this. Besides, you really don't want to meet the guy who owns the ship."

"Why not?" Rodney asked, staring wistfully at the ship. "Surely we'd be able to trade him something in exchange for a change to figure out how it works."

John shook his head, steadily steering Rodney back towards the Puddlejumper. "I doubt we can offer him what he wants," he said urgently. John nodded at the people staring at the Puddlejumper, ignored Kalak's small wave (although he noted in puzzlement that he only looked a couple of years older than when they first met – perhaps Thorac had given him some lifeforce?), and quickly shoved Rodney safely on board.

Shutting the hatch, he swiftly made his way up to the cockpit and commandeered the pilot's chair. "Right, now let's get out of here before they change their minds."

"Before Rodney speaks to them, you mean,' remarked Ronon, earning himself a glare from Rodney.

John smiled to himself as he left the planet as quickly as possible. He was alive and his team was safe, that was all that mattered at the moment. With any luck he'd never run into Thorac or his crazy group of Worshippers again, although knowing the Pegasus Galaxy, he seriously doubted that he'd seen the last of them.

TBC


	2. Along for the Ride

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or any of the characters from the show.

Thanks to eveyone who reviewed. (-:

Thorac stared in horror at the small ship drifting tantalisingly beyond his reach through the front window of the vessel he was piloting. Although he had no way of contacting the people trapped on board, he had every reason to believe that they were still alive, and by his calculations, still had approximately 12 hours before the oxygen in the ship was entirely depleted.

That was sufficient time to arrange for a rescue, if only he had a means of reaching the ship without suffering the same fate. Growling in frustration he turned to glare at the Lantean Spacestation that was located some distance from the trapped spaceship. Other vessels, mainly wraith, drifted aimlessly in orbit around the spacestation, previous victims of the Lantean defence system that rendered the instruments of any non-Lantean ship foolish enough to get too close completely useless.

Now if only he had an original Lantean ship at his disposal, then perhaps the system would admit him…Thorac's thoughts trailed off as he recalled where he had last seen a Lantean Gateship. Grinning slightly to himself, Thorac rapidly plotted a course for the nearest planet with a Stargate. With a bit of luck, he might be able to rescue his people.

John was training with the Marines in the Gym when the Stargate activated unexpectedly. This sort of thing tended to happen with a depressingly regularity – what with Wraith, hostile natives, unusual weather patterns and a multitude of ways for team members to hurt themselves, it was actually more of a rare event for the Stargate to be dialled on schedule.

The transmitted message however, was definitely out of the ordinary.

"This is Thorac, Leader of the Protectorate. I request to speak with Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard of Atlantis. Please respond." Although low, the voice was unmistakably that of a Wraith, and Elizabeth had contacted John and asked him to make his way to the Gateroom before the message even ended.

John breathlessly burst into the Gateroom in time to hear Thorac repeat the message over the control panel intercom.

Elizabeth spotted John's entry and made a beeline for him. "John, do you know why a Wraith would be asking to speak to you? And why he dialled Atlantis?"

John frowned. "Thorac. That's the wraith who rescued me from the Hive ship last month. I've no idea why he would be trying to contact me though. And at the time they were under the impression that Atlantis had been destroyed. Unless they've been speaking to Michael…"

"Michael's dead, John," Elizabeth protested.

John shook his head. "We don't know that for sure. He may have found a way off that planet before we destroyed the base. Thorac's ships are very fast – he may have rescued him without our knowledge."

"God, I hope not," Elizabeth said, glancing back at the control area where Thorac was repeating his message for a third time. "Should we reply, do you think?"

John shrugged. "He seemed relatively harmless for a Wraith last time we met. It probably would be alright to see what he wants."

Elizabeth nodded, considering her options. "Alright then, I'll get you to respond since he already knows you."

John gave Elizabeth a reassuring smile and traipsed up the stairs to join the rest of the team around the control panel.

"Open a communication channel back to the planet," Elizabeth instructed the gate tech, who turned and entered a few commands into the system. He then nodded to Elizabeth to let her know that they were live.

"This is John Sheppard," John stated. "What do you want?"

"Ah, John. Good to see you again. I was hoping that you'd be there," Thorac replied cheerfully.

"That's nice," John said curtly, ignoring Elizabeth's raised eyebrow. "Would you get to the point? Why have you contacted us?"

"You're very focussed, Colonel Sheppard. That is good," Thorac remarked. "And I was hoping to negotiate a trade agreement with you."

"Let me guess," snapped Rodney. "You promise not to tell the rest of the Wraith where we are, and in exchange we give you whatever you want."

Thorac laughed coldly. "That would actually come under the definition of blackmail as opposed to trade. All I want is the use of one of your Puddlejumpers for several hours, and in exchange I'll give you the location of a Lantean Spacestation that is completely untouched by the Wraith."

Elizabeth looked at the other members of the command staff in surprise. This was undoubtedly a generous offer, considering the position that they were in, but they also remembered far too clearly what had happened last time they had attempted to strike a deal with the Wraith.

"That is an interesting offer," she said diplomatically to the Wraith. "You'll understand that we need time to consider it."

"I'm afraid time isn't something that I can offer you," Thorac replied, sounding almost apologetic. "I'm working on a very strict deadline, and I need the ship now."

John grimaced. He hated having to rush into decisions. "You do realise that even if we let you have the ship, you won't be able to fly it?" he asked. "They only respond to people with the Ancient Gene."

"Ancient Gene?" Thorac asked, puzzled. "Oh, you mean the genetic makeup of the Lantean bloodline. The Gateships can be modified to fly using manual controls. I have enough time to make the necessary adjustments, but only if you make a decision soon."

Rodney looked up in surprise. "Really?" he asked. "I thought that it might be possible, but given the lack of manual controls in the cockpit of the ships I would've thought it'd be difficult to actually control the ship from there."

"Rodney," John said warningly. "Now is not a good time."

"Do we have a deal, Colonel Sheppard?" Thorac interrupted, sounding impatient.

John looked at Elizabeth questioningly. She grimaced and shrugged. "I don't like it," she said softly, "but I don't see that we have much of a choice right now."

John nodded in understanding. "Alright," he said to Thorac, "we have a deal on one condition."

"Which is?"

"I'm coming with you," he said. His team immediately burst into an uproar, refusing to be left behind while he went for a field trip with a Wraith. "Fine, my team and I are coming with you, just to be certain that you keep up your end of the bargain."

There was a moment's hesitation before Thorac responded. "I'd rather you didn't," he said quietly. "This isn't the safest of activities that I've got planned. I'd rather you stay where I can guarantee you'll be safe." He paused again. "Or at least as safe as you can be in this galaxy."

"Those are our terms," John said shortly. "Take them or leave them."

"Very well," Thorac replied. "I'll send you the address of the planet that I'm on. There isn't much time, so the sooner you bring the Gateship, the better." With that parting remark the Stargate disengaged.

Teyla looked at John in concern. "Are you sure that this is a good idea?" she asked him.

John sighed. "No," he said, "but if he wanted to harm us then he would've insisted on our presence instead of arguing against it. Besides, he knows that Atlantis still exists. We need to play along for now if we want to gain enough time to figure out a defence plan if he informs the rest of the Wraith of our presence here."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "I don't like it either, but it's all that we can do at the moment."

"I could kill him," Ronon offered.

Rodney looked pained. "If you kill him, then we won't find out whether he is telling the truth about the Ancient Spacestation. Just imagine what we could find there, especially if the Wraith haven't had a chance to destroy it yet."

"Why would the Wraith leave the Ancestors technology untouched?" Teyla asked. "Everything that they find they destroy lest it be used against them."

"A spacestation isn't exactly a threat," Rodney protested. "It's probably just for observation or something and the Wraith weren't interested enough in it investigate it further. There might even be a ZPM"

"Well, we're not going to find out until we get there," John said firmly. "Gear up and meet in the Jumper Bay in twenty."

"Be careful," Elizabeth told him as he turned to leave.

"Always," John replied seriously.

Thorac watched in relief as the Lantean Gateship flew through the Stargate and came to a rest nearby. Even accounting for the considerably slower pace of the antique ship he should be able to return to the spacestation and rescue his companions before their time ran out.

Hesitantly he slowly approached the ship, his hands loosely at his sides to indicate that he was unarmed and waited for the latest inhabitants of Atlantis to emerge.

John Sheppard was the first to emerge, cautiously followed by the rest of his team who Thorac was able to identify from the descriptions collected by his people: Teyla - the dark skinned Athosian leader, Ronon - the ex-runner and Dr McKay – the non-native scientist who claimed to be an expert on Lantean technology.

Ever since their meeting with John a month ago Thorac had made a point of gathering as much information as possible on these travellers who carried the blood of the Lanteans. As far as Thorac could tell, they supposedly originated from another galaxy, possibly even Earth, and they claimed that their primary purpose in this galaxy was to make new alliances and fight the Wraith.

"You are alone?" John asked, and Thorac nodded.

"Yes," he replied, studying the rest of the team curiously. It was unusual to see different cultures working this closely together – the constant fear of the Wraith made a lot of people distrustful and suspicious towards outsiders.

"Right," said John, though Thorac could see him carefully scanning the surrounding area anyway. "Come on then. Give me the coordinates and I'll fly, since it'ld take a while to modify the ship, and we kinda like it the way it is."

"I could always change it back," Thorac pointed out, but didn't argue the point. It'd take too long for one thing, and it didn't really matter who was flying the ship as long as they got there in time.

He took a seat near the front of the ship, close enough to provide directions but with enough distance not to disturb John who seemed rather uncomfortable around Wraith. Understandable, sure, but it could make for a long flight.

Settling in, he noticed that Ronon was glaring at him with undisguised hatred on his face. There was no doubt that the ex-runner would happily kill him in a heartbeat with or without a good reason. Thorac was impressed that the Colonel was capable of keeping such sheer hatred in check, although it did seem somewhat foolish to bring someone with such a violent grudge on a trip that meant travelling in small confines with a Wraith.

Teyla, on the other hand, was watching him warily but calmly. He could sense that she was slightly different than the others and pushed lightly with his mind – not hard enough to intrude, but enough to determine why she felt so familiar. To his surprise he encountered instant resistance and received a sharp glare from Teyla. In shock he identified the pattern of her mind as Wraith in origin. She was Wraith, or at least part-Wraith. Not enough to weave illusions with her mind perhaps, but certainly she possessed the strength to walk the dream webs and communicate with the others. It had been a long time since he had encountered another of his kind, even in the weakened form of the warrior across from him.

As for the scientist, he was busy working on a handheld data device, stopping occasionally to glance nervously at Thorac, probably to make sure that he hadn't eaten anybody yet.

All in all, it was a long, uncomfortable trip back to the spacestation.

John was fairly surprised when he spotted the Ancient Spacestation orbiting around a large planet. He had spent most of the trip expecting to end up being ambushed by a Hive ship or the like, so to discover that the Wraith had been telling the truth about this at least was a bit of a shock.

"Over there," Thorac told him, pointing at a ship that was drifting aimlessly nearby.

John was surprised to recognise the vessel as the one that Thorac had been piloting the last time they had met, although that explained why he needed to borrow a ship.

He carefully manoeuvred the Puddlejumper over to the crippled ship until they were alongside. To his considerable surprise Thorac visibly relaxed.

"It worked," Thorac muttered incredulously.

"What worked?" John asked suspiciously.

Thorac looked at him hesitantly for a moment, as if he'd forgotten all about them. "The spacestation," he answered finally. "It has a defence field that disables ships that aren't of Lantean origin. I suspect that it was developed during the war and the Lantean's didn't bother disarming it when they left. Hence the graveyard of ships." He gestured out the window, and John stared in astonishment at the vast collection of ships floating in orbit around the station. Behind him he heard Teyla's small gasp of horror, and Rodney's startled exclamation.

"You didn't mention this earlier," John accused Thorac.

Thorac shrugged. "This is why I wanted to come alone – I couldn't be sure that the system would allow this ship admittance."

"And you didn't say anything?" Rodney stepped in angrily. "What gives you the right to risk our lives like that?" Thorac just looked at him, his cat-like eyes narrowed to thin slits.

"You chose to come," he said finally. "Now, would you kindly complete the task that brought us here in the first place?"

"How are we supposed to get them out of there anyway?" John asked crossly, still upset over being lied to, even if that was more or less what he had expected from the Wraith. "It's not like we can beam them out."

"No," Thorac replied, eyeing the ship thoughtfully. "But if you can nudge the ship out of the field then they should be able to fly again. The field was designed to incapacitate, not destroy."

John sighed in disbelief, and tried to concentrate on playing pool with a spaceship.

It took a while, but finally the other vessel was clear of the Spacestation's defence field. John watching in relief as the engines started easily and the other ship came back to life. He had no desire to try and tow the other ship back to the nearest Stargate.

Thorac stepped forward, much to John's discomfort, and stabbed a button on the control panel, activating the communications system. "This is Thorac," he stated. "If you can hear me, please respond."

There was a long pause, and then finally the face of a young man appeared on the front view screen of the Puddlejumper. John was surprised to realise that he recognised him. It was Kalak, looking about 10 years younger than when they had originally met. John supposed that Thorac had given him the gift of life, though it did remind him of how strangely difficult it had been to determine how much life the Wraith Queen had taken from him the last time they had met.

"Thorac," Kalak exclaimed happily from the screen. "We were beginning to think that you wouldn't be able to come up with a way to rescue us."

Shaya stepped into view and grinned happily. "I won 40 bushels of wheat and a bottle of Col's homebrew spirits," she said cheerfully. "Some of the others don't have as much faith in your rescue abilities."

"If you didn't get into trouble so often I wouldn't need to keep rescuing you," Thorac pointed out. "What were you doing out here anyway? I'm sure I told you that the spacestation was dangerous."

Shaya smiled sheepishly. "We were just checking it out. Didn't realise that the energy field came this far out."

"Greetings Colonel Sheppard," Kalak said, noticing John at last. "We appreciate your help."

John shrugged. "You look younger than I remember," he remarked.

Kalak smiled. "Looks can be deceiving, Colonel Sheppard. You should know that by now."

"I hate to break up this little reunion, but there's a Wraith Hive ship headed this way," Rodney interrupted, staring an approaching blip on the screen of his data pad.

Thorac hissed in annoyance, and Ronon was on his feet in an instance, his blaster inches away from the Wraith's face. "You told them we were here," he growled angrily.

"Why do you always assume that they're after you?" Thorac asked him coldly.

"Are these not from your Hive?" Teyla asked Thorac.

Thorac shook his head. "Most certainly not."

Sheppard frowned, disinclined to believe the Wraith. On the other hand, the Wraith had taken to fighting amongst themselves since the food shortages had begun, so it was conceivable that these were coming from a rival Hive.

"It'll be here in a couple of minutes," Rodney said, a note of panic in his voice.

Thorac shouldered pass John to the control panel. "Shaya, provide cover for us, alright? As soon as we're clear get out of here as soon as possible. Don't stay and fight."

Shaya nodded vaguely, already preparing the small vessel for a battle.

"Move," Thorac growled at John, shoving him away from the pilot's seat.

"You can't fly it, remember?" John protested, but Thorac ignored him completely.

"Could not we wait in the spacestation?" Teyla suggested. "They will not be able to follow us there, and Rodney could get the life-support working."

"That's a great idea," Rodney snapped sarcastically, "expect we've got no food and probably no water, and if they decide to wait us out we'll be completely trapped. So unless you want to die of starvation, I would think that the spacestation is out."

"That's only if they bother to wait for us, Rodney," John said patiently. He turned to Thorac. "They're your people, would they be likely to try and wait us out if we hide in the spacestation?"

Thorac frowned. "They're not my people," he said crossly. "And I have no idea what they'll do. Besides, I've got plenty of food either way…"

Teyla shot a nervous glance at John, but before he could say anything the Wraith Hive ship dropped out of hyperspace nearby.

"Now," Thorac commanded Shaya, and wordlessly the other vessel moved to intercept the wave of Darts heading towards them.

"We're sitting ducks here," Rodney said urgently. "You have to let John fly."

Thorac just smiled slightly, and powered up the Puddlejumper. As John and the rest of his team stared at Thorac incredulously, the Wraith swiftly spun the ship around and took off for a distant planet, nimbly dodging the space debris created by the other ship which Shaya was using to carve a path through the incoming darts.

A couple of Darts broke through and drew alongside the Puddlejumper, only to be finished off by a few well guided drones.

As they drew nearer to the planet John could see a Spacegate floating in orbit around it – alongside two Wraith Cruisers. Thorac muttered a curse in Wraith as he swerved sharply to avoid being fired upon. "Dial the gate," he snapped, a trio of drones impacting into the side of one of the cruisers, creating an impressive explosion.

John considered this for a moment, and then nodded to Teyla. "Dial Atlantis," he said. "We're going to need the shield."

Glancing at the small fleet of Darts pursuing the ship, Teyla nodded and began to punch the symbols into the DHD.

The Stargate activated and John tapped his radio. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard. We're coming in hot. Be ready to raise the shields as soon as we're through the gate."

There was a pause and then Elizabeth responded. "This is Atlantis. You're clear to come through."

Thorac steered the ship towards the activated gate as quickly as the Puddlejumper would allow. At the last possible moment he slammed on the reverse thrust, slowing the ship down enough for the automated landing system in Atlantis to take over.

As soon as the ship had cleared the Stargate the shield was raised, just in time too, if the volley of thuds against the shield was anything to judge by. Thorac winced slightly at the sound, but refrained from commenting.

The Puddlejumper came to a rest in the Jumper Bay, and the team disembarked – closely followed by Thorac. They were greeted by a lot of Marines with guns, all of which were pointed in Thorac's direction.

"I'm getting the impression that they don't trust me all that much," Thorac remarked, eyeing the guns carefully.

"Yes, well, what do you expect?" Rodney replied. "We're at war, after all."

"We are?" Thorac asked, glancing at the scientist curiously.

"Care to explain how you managed to fly a ship which requires the Ancient gene to operate?" John said, nodding a greeting to Elizabeth who had made her way down from the Gateroom.

"Genetic abnormality," Thorac replied with a shrug, looking around. "May I leave now?"

"I don't think so," John said firmly, stepping in front of the Wraith. "We're going to want a lot more answers than that before you go anywhere."

Thorac glared at him. "You can't keep me here forever, you know," he said coldly.

"I don't see why not," John replied with a smirk.

Thorac growled crossly, stepping towards John, and Ronon quickly fired his Blaster several times at the Wraith, who promptly collapsed to the ground.

There was a long silence, before Rodney asked Ronan "Is he dead?"

Ronan shook his head in disgust. "Just stunned."

"What should we do with him?" Elizabeth asked John.

He shrugs. "We can't let him leave, not with the knowledge that Atlantis still exists. Not to mention that he can use Ancient technology. I don't particularly like the idea of a Wraith being able to operate Ancient weapons and the like."

On the ground Thorac moaned slightly, and shifted one of his arms. Ronon shot him again.

Rodney shook his head. "I'd almost say you're enjoying this," he remarked to Ronon, who just looked at him blandly.

Elizabeth sighed. "We better lock him up while we figure out what to do with him," she decided.

John nodded and directed several of the marines to take the unconscious Wraith down to the holding cells. "Keep him under watch at all times," he said firmly. "We can't afford to have him wandering loose around the city."

Once Thorac was safely on his way to the cells, John turned to Elizabeth and the rest of his team. "So," he said thoughtfully, "we need to figure out what to do with him now…"

TBC


	3. Illusions

John watched silently through the observation window as the latest addition to the city lay sleeping in an isolation room off the infirmary. The young man was slightly paler than average, with short brown hair, but other than that fairly unremarkable.

"How's he doing?" Elizabeth asked him, coming to stand by his side.

John shrugged. "He's still asleep," he replied.

"Aye, and he'll probably sleep a lot more over the next few days," Dr Beckett added. "The retrovirus seems to draw energy from the body to help complete the change. That's probably why Michael was so hungry after he changed back."

Elizabeth noticed the man's shorter hair and frowned at Dr Beckett. "I thought we agreed not to cut his hair in case he remembers everything. We don't know how his ability to use Ancient devices will effect the change."

Dr Beckett shook his head. "He doesn't remember anything. And his hair changed with the rest of him. We're not sure why."

"It got shorter?" John asked incredulously.

"Aye. It could be a result of his genetic abnormality. As far as we can determine he has some Ancient blood in him, enough to give him the gene. We haven't been able to determine how strong he is yet though."

"I suppose I should go speak to him," Elizabeth said reluctantly. "John, you're with me." John nodded as she turned to the other two members of the team. "Ronon, I think it would be best if you stayed away from our guest, at least for the time being. And Teyla, it's completely up to you whether you want to see him or not. I'll support your decision either way."

Teyla nodded gratefully and watched in concern as the others filed down to the newcomer's room.

The man stirred slightly as John entered the room, closely followed by Elizabeth and Dr Beckett.

As they approached the bed he woke up fully, and looked up anxiously. "Who are you?" he asked curiously.

Elizabeth stepped forward, her best diplomatic smile firmly in place. "I'm Dr Elizabeth Weir, leader of the Atlantis expedition. This is Colonel Sheppard, our military commander and Dr Beckett you've already met."

The man nodded thoughtfully. "It's nice to meet you. Apparently, my name is George Sor…" he trailed off, casting a hopeless look in Dr Beckett's direction. "What did you say my last name was?"

Dr Beckett smiled reassuringly. "Sorbel. You're George Sorbel."

"Why can't I remember anything?" the newly named George asked, looking worried.

"I'm afraid you've been very ill," Dr Beckett told him gently. "You contracted a disease off-world that affected your brain. It caused you to suffer hallucinations and severe delusions. You spent most of the last week under the belief that you were a Wraith. This illness has affected your memory. Given time it may return."

"How long until it comes back?" George asked urgently. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life not remembering who I am."

"I'm not sure," Dr Beckett admitted, sounding apologetic. "Sometimes the memory returns gradually over time. It could take weeks, months, even years. I'm afraid there is a chance it may never return."

George frowned in dismay. "So what should I do?" he asked worriedly.

"For the moment just concentrate on resting and getting better. We'll figure out the rest when you're fully recovered," Elizabeth said with a half-smile. "Hopefully seeing more of the city will help refresh your memory."

"Get some rest, lad," Dr Beckett said firmly. "I'll be back later to check on you."

George frowned slightly as they filed out of the room, but soon drifted back to sleep.

No one noticed the secretive smile one of the Marines had as he slipped out of the infirmary and down the corridors of Atlantis.

Thorac had recovered from the blaster shots with remarkable speed, even for a Wraith. He'd always been able to heal rapidly, a useful side effect of his combined genes, and he used it to his full advantage after Colonel Sheppard gave the order to imprison him.

He waited until the marines had carried him down several corridors and safely out of sight from Colonel Sheppard and the rest of his team before springing to life and pulling one of the marines to the floor. Using his superior strength, he twisted the marine in his grasp until they had switched positions, knocking the man unconscious as he did so.

Swiftly he reached with his mind and switched the images of himself and the marine in the minds of the other marines. Instead of seeing their team mate unconscious on the floor they saw him sitting where Thorac was while the wraith lay senselessly on the ground.

"Well, don't just stand there," Thorac said to the Marines, taking care to project the sound of the marine's voice in place of his own. "Help me get him down to the holding cells before he wakes up again."

There was a tense moment before they finally stepped forward and grabbed the wraith/human lying on the floor. "I hate these damn things," one of them muttered angrily. "I wish we could just kill it and be done with it."

"Maybe it could have a little 'accident' on the way to the cells," the other marine suggested. "We could say that it woke up and we had to kill it in order to defend ourselves."

Thorac looked up in alarm at that suggestion – it was one thing for him to impersonate the marine, but he didn't want to see him getting killed in his place.

Fortunately the first marine just shook his head. "The Colonel will be furious if we kill one of his little pets. He'd probably make us attend a practice session with Ronon or something."

The other marine winced. "Yeah, good point. I can't wait until we rid the galaxy of these menaces though."

"You actually believe that's possible?" the first one asked sceptically.

"Sure," the other one shrugged. "Look at Stargate Command. They managed to wipe out most of the Goa'uald presence in the Milky Way within eight years. Not to mention they didn't have the support of other countries for several of those years."

"True," the first marine admitted, "but Wraith are completely different. At least the Goa'uald didn't eat people. What do you think?" he asked Thorac.

Thorac hesitated at the question. Personally he believed that it was very unlikely that the humans would ever succeed in completely slaughtering the Wraith, but he needed to act in character for the human that he was impersonating. He reached out with his mind and scanned the unconscious marine for his opinion on the matter, taking careful note of any other potentially useful information he encountered on the way.

"We'll wipe the bastards out of existence," he said finally, expressing the unconscious marine's personal belief. Thorac felt that it was a fairly optimistic opinion, but at least it wouldn't cause any suspicion with the other warriors.

"That's the spirit," the second marine said with a laugh. "We'll show them who's boss."

They reached the cells and tossed the unconscious human inside. "I'll stay and keep an eye on him," Thorac volunteered, aware that if he wanted to maintain such a complicated double illusion for a sustained period of time he'd need to stay as close as possible to the other man.

The first marine nodded. "You stay here too," he said to the second marine. "I'll go and report back to Colonel Sheppard."

Thorac was extremely relieved when Colonel Sheppard and a team of marines arrived a few hours later to collect the 'wraith' and take him to the infirmary. Although he'd used illusions before to disguise his identity, he'd never had to actually assume the identity of another person before, not to mention maintaining the image that the marine was a wraith. While he was fairly sure that he could manage to disguise himself for several days, maintaining the second illusion would most likely require him to feed considerably sooner than that if he were required to hold it for a prolonged period of time.

He made sure that he was one of the marines accompanying the wraith/human to the infirmary and standing guard while Dr Beckett administered the retrovirus. Thorac took the opportunity to carefully glean information on the treatment from the doctor, and was relieved to discover that it shouldn't harm the human he was impersonating.

He used the information gathered to create the impression that the captive was transforming into a human, carefully leaving enough of an illusion to make sure that the man wouldn't be identified. Thorac was especially pleased to learn that the retrovirus typically caused amnesia in the patients, as that meant he need only block the marine's memories as opposed to completely controlling him.

Once the 'transformation' was complete according to the humans expectations, Thorac allowed the marine to wake up – after making sure that he would be unable to recall any past events for the next couple of weeks. He was careful to remain nearby while the expedition leader and her second-in-command spoke with the human, listening intently for any sign of recollection. It was unlikely that the human would regain his memories sooner than intended – Thorac had had a fair bit of practice in altering minds – but in the circumstances it was best to careful.

It was not until the Atlantean's had accepted the deception unquestioningly and left the 'ex-wraith' to recover from the supposed after effects of the retrovirus that Thorac felt secure enough to slip from the infirmary and begin exploring the rest of Atlantis.

A couple of hours after Elizabeth and John had spoken to George, Teyla cautiously made her way into the room where he was been kept.

George looked up in interest as she entered. "Who are you?" he asked her quietly.

"My name is Teyla," she told him, taking care to remain a safe distance from the bed.

"It's nice to meet you, Teyla," George said politely. "Or have we already met?"

"We've met," Teyla informed him, 'though we have not spoken at any great length."

George nodded thoughtfully. "I find it hard to believe that I could forget a face such as yours," he remarked. Teyla looked at him warily, and George gave her a half-smile. "It was nice of you to come and see me, especially if we are not well acquainted."

"I wanted to see how you were feeling," Teyla said.

"A lot better, thank you," George replied with a sigh. "They told me I spent a week believing that I was some sort of creature, a Wraith I think it was. It is strange to think that I could lose my grasp on reality so easily. How do I tell what is real and what is a result of this illness?"

Teyla looked uncertain. "Dr Beckett said that you're recovering quite nicely. He will keep an eye on you to make sure that you're completely well."

George nodded, but still looked unsettled. "Thank you. I suppose I better get some rest now."

Teyla nodded. "Of course. I'll let you get back to sleep," she said, turning to leave.

George hesitated for a moment, and then called after Teyla. "Will you come see me again?" he asked.

Teyla paused and turned back to look at him. "Would you like me to?" she asked him.

George nodded. "That'd be nice."

There was a long pause before Teyla finally nodded. "Alright," she said. "I'll come back later and check on you."

George smiled. "Thank you."

Teyla gave him an uneasy smile and hastily left the room.

Thorac carefully made his way down the corridors, making sure that he was actively projecting the image of the marine he was impersonating in place of his own face. Finding an abandoned room, he quickly slipped inside and mentally locked the door behind him.

Sitting down with a sigh, he tried to figure out what to do next. Maintaining a constant illusion was draining his energy considerably, although now that the second illusion over the marine was reduced to just a few simple differences he figured that he should be able to hold the two images for several days – a week at most – provided he was able to stay near to the warrior that the humans had decided to rename as George.

The Atlantean's attempt to capture him had taken him by surprise – especially considering that he had previously helped one of them escape from a Wraith Hive ship and had approached them in the hope of peaceful trade. Still, his father had warned him when he was a child to avoid the Lanteans.

"_They're not safe for you, my son," he had said. "They won't understand. You must avoid them at all costs."_

"_But I want to see Atlantis," he had protested. His father had told him many stories of the city in which his ancestors had used to travel to this galaxy, and for many years he had dreamed of exploring the ancient spaceship – a living monument to the history of his father's people._

"_Not yet," his father had told him sadly. "One day, perhaps, when the war is over. For now you must survive for the sake of our people."_

It seemed that his father's warning held true even for the descendants of the Lanteans who had fled the galaxy and a war they couldn't win. He wondered if that was the war that the scientist – Dr McKay – had been referring to. Surely 10 000 years was too long to continue fighting for? Or was this a new war, started between the same races millennia later? He needed to know more.

Thorac grinned to himself as a sudden realisation hit him. He was in Atlantis. He had a projected mask that would allow him to move safely among the humans for the present time. Finally he had an opportunity to explore the home of his ancestors and to learn more about the people who now inhabited the city.

Carefully reaching out with his mind he tapped into the mainframe of the city. To his shock it was completely deserted. Surely in a community this size they would be able to spare someone to watch the mental control network that Atlantis had been designed for? Unless…he explored further, and discovered that, barring one brief period a few months ago, the Atlantean's had left the network completely untouched. There were indications that it was accessed in order to open doors and other simple tasks, but any changes had been affected through manual workstations. Had the bloodline been diluted to the point where no one was strong enough to control the city mentally?

He sent a request to the central database for all the records concerning the newcomers to the city. To his surprise the database supplied him with a complete record of the city's changes during that period – power supply and consumption, Stargate usage and addresses dialled, damage reports – there was a disturbingly high number of these – and other records of a similar nature, but no information inputted by the Atlantean's themselves. Either they kept no records whatsoever, or they recorded everything on a separate database.

Thorac grimaced slightly as he realised that he'd need to find a manual workstation if he wanted to access the secondary database that they must've set up. The city seemed to indicate that there were several locations where a connection had been made with a foreign technology. The nearest was in the infirmary, and although that was closer to George, he had observed that all of the warriors tended to avoid the place unless they were injured.

The highest concentration of terminals seemed to be in the science labs, so Thorac decided to see if he could find an abandoned workstation in a hopefully empty lab. He unlocked the door and stepped out into the corridor, trying to give the impression that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Fortunately, none of the inhabitants seemed inclined to bother the busy looking marine as he strode along the corridors, using the city's network to guide him. He had a close call with Teyla though, as he could feel her mind reaching out to guard against unwelcome Wraith intrusion in the city. Hastily he closed off the part of his mind that connected with the Wraith telepathic network, hiding himself from her mind with the same ease that he had hid from countless Wraith over the centuries.

Reaching the section of the city where the humans had chosen to utilise the labs he paused, using the cities sensors to determine which labs were occupied. Selecting one that the city indicated had been vacant for some time, he slipped inside and cautiously made his way over to one of the workstations. He located the terminal that he was looking for without any hassle – the slim data device looked completely out of place amongst the surrounding Lantean technology.

It appeared to be a basic portable data device with a collection of buttons to input data and a screen with which to view it. He pushed a button experimentally, and a small box with the words 'Enter Password' appeared on the screen. It took a moment for him to interpret it using the information he had gleaned from the hapless marine's mind, and then come to the realisation that the marine hadn't known the password, or if he had it hadn't been among the information that Thorac had gathered.

Impatiently he accessed the Lantean database through the terminal that the human device was connected to and instructed Atlantis to run through the possible password combinations. Exactly 12.4 seconds later the screen disappeared, revealing a collection of small pictures with labels underneath them. It took Thorac a moment to collaborate what he was seeing with the data he had 'borrowed' from the marine and realise that the images represented items stored in the secondary database, and that the information he was looking for was most likely stored in the picture labelled 'Documents'.

Opening a file labelled as 'History', Thorac settled down to learn what he could about the newcomers and their home in another galaxy.

John slouched in his chair, half-listening to Dr Beckett describe the Wraith's progress.

"His recovery is remarkable," Dr Beckett was saying enthusiastically. "Compared to Michael and the other's test results the difference is incredible. He's in perfect physical health and his muscles show barely any deterioration as a result of a change."

"Is there any sign of him regaining his memory?" Elizabeth asked.

Dr Beckett shook his head. "No, he seems fine in that regard. The increased dose seems to have done the trick. He's accepted the cover story nicely too."

"He is exhibiting concern over his mental health though," Teyla remarked. "It seems to bother him that he could lose his mind for a week and have no memory of it. Is this really necessary?"

"Yes," John said firmly. "The cover is necessary in case he starts to develop any Wraith-like urges the same way Michael did. This way there's a chance he'll dismiss them as symptoms of the illness, and hopefully tell someone about them. If he's worried about his mental health then we'll ask Dr Heightmeyer to speak with him."

"It feels wrong to lie to him like this though," Teyla argued. "It's not like he was trying to harm us. Perhaps we should've just let him go?"

"We can't risk that sort of exposure," Elizabeth said softly. "He knows that Atlantis still exists. One word to the rest of the Wraith and we'd have half the Hive ships in the galaxy on our doorstep. I'm afraid that this is the best way."

"It's either this or let him starve to death," John said bluntly. "We're giving him a chance to be human."

Teyla frowned unhappily, but declined to pursue the point further.

"So, is he ready to be released?" Elizabeth asked Dr Beckett.

He nodded. "I just need to run one last set of tests and he'll be free to leave – at least to alternative accommodation."

"Alright," said Elizabeth. "John, would you be able to show our guest around his quarters? Try and talk to him if you can. It'd be good if he feels that he can confide in you."

John nodded reluctantly. "I'll see what I can do."

After the meeting had finished, John slowly headed down to the infirmary – finding as many excuses as possible to delay the inevitable. Drifting through the labs in an attempt to find Rodney to see if he had any devices that needed activating, he was surprised to notice one of the new Marines – Nathan – sitting in an empty lab studying something on one of the laptops. He briefly considered asking him what he was doing, and then decided against it. Some things he simply didn't want to know. Besides, this way if anything happened he could honestly tell Elizabeth that he didn't know anything about it.

He finally reached the infirmary in time to find Dr Beckett giving George his daily shot of the drugs required to maintain the effects of the retrovirus.

"Finished?" John asked Dr Beckett, who nodded in response.

"All done," he said, turning to George. "Now I'll need you to come down here at the same time each day for this shot. It's necessary to support your immune system after your illness."

George nodded in acknowledgement, and looked at John questioningly. "Can I help you, Colonel Sheppard?" he asked.

John managed a smile. "Good news," he said. "You're officially well enough to get out of here and back into normal quarters."

"Really?" George asked hopefully.

John nodded. "Come on. I'll show you where your quarters are."

John hastily left the infirmary, closely followed by George and the two marines that just 'happened' to be going the same way.

Halfway down one of the corridors George suddenly stopped and stared at his reflection in a window. Tentatively he touched his face with his hands as if to check that it was really him.

"Is everything okay?" John asked him with a frown. They really didn't need an angry Wraith on their hands just now, or anytime, for that matter.

George turned to stare at John, and for a moment there is a glint of awareness in his eyes, but it fades almost instantly. "I didn't recognise my own reflection, that's all. Somehow I how my hair would be darker. This illness has taken so much from me, I can only hope that I will regain my memory soon."

John smiled uncomfortably, and continues to lead George down the corridor to the room that had been set aside for his use. "Here you go," John said, mentally opening the door and gesturing the human/wraith into the room. "Just as you left it."

George wandered around the room curiously, but left everything in its place. "How well do we know each other?" he asked John softly.

John shrugged. "We've worked together a bit," he said vaguely.

"Why haven't any of my friends come to see me?" George asked unhappily. "Do I even have any friends? And what about family? Do I have any parents here? Brothers, sisters? Why haven't any of them come to see how I am?"

John looked uncomfortable. "Um, well you're fairly new here. You only arrived last week and you haven't really had a chance to get to know anybody yet. As for your family, they're still back on Earth. They were unaware of your condition, I'm afraid, because of the confidential nature of this mission."

George was quite for a moment while he absorbed this information. "Earth?" he asked finally.

"It's where we're from," John explained. "It's a long way from Atlantis, I'm afraid."

"How did I get here?" George asked.

"On a spaceship called the Daedalus," John replied. "You're part of an expedition team dedicated to exploring other planets."

"So what do I do?" George asked him curiously. "What is my job in this team?"

"You're a scientist," John told him reluctantly, hoping that they had been correct in their assumption that Thorac was some kind of Wraith scientist. If nothing else, it was a good excuse to not give him a weapon. "It's part of your job to explore other planets in the galaxy in order to find new technology and weapons that can be used against the Wraith. That's how you caught the virus that caused this illness."

"So in my first week here I managed to contract a virus that caused me to believe I was some sort of evil creature and then completely forget everything I know?" George asked, frowning. "This place must really hate me."

John shook his head. "You were just unlucky, that's all. Everyone tends to get injured sooner or later. This is a dangerous place."

George didn't reply, so John tried changing the subject.

"So, do you remember the Wraith?" he asked curiously.

George hesitated for a moment. "No," he said finally, shaking his head. "Just that I've been told that I thought I was one for a week." He grimaced. "It's disturbing to think that I thought I was some sort of alien creature."

"Yeah, well the Wraith creep most of us out, so that's completely normal. We've arranged for Dr Heightmeyer, our psychiatrist, to speak with you in the morning. She may be able to help with your amnesia," John replied, trying to retreat without appearing too rude.

George nodded. "Alright. I suppose I should get some rest. Dr Beckett said that I would feel tired for a few days while my body finishes recovering."

"Okay," John said, heading for the door. At the last moment he paused and looked back. "I'll see you in the mess for breakfast," he said, and disappeared into the hall before George could reply.

John hurried through the corridors of Atlantis as quickly as he could without actually running, hoping to put as much distance between him and George as possible. There was something about the ex-wraith that really disturbed him. Perhaps, he wondered, it was that he'd known Thorac before the change, and this – person, was completely different from the Wraith. If he didn't know better he'd almost say that they were completely different beings.

It made him pause and wonder if they'd done the right thing in using the retrovirus. Sure, Thorac had been a threat, but maybe they could've worked something out…

His thoughts trailed off as the radio in his ear came to life. "John, would you please come to the control room," Elizabeth said calmly, though he could detect an undercurrent of worry in her voice. "We're receiving a transmission from some humans that claim they are Thorac's friends, and they want to know where he is."

TBC


	4. Mistaken Identity

Sorry that it's taken so long to update - I've been kinda caught up with my exams from Uni, which is finally over for the year, so I should be able to update more frequently in future. Again, apologies for the delay.

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis or any of the characters from the show.

**Mistaken Identity**

Thorac sighed in frustration as he scrolled though the human's database. There was a lot of information stored on the system that they'd set up, but it was hard to find anything of use. There seemed to be no logical way in which the information was organised, and standard search terms were useless as the humans seemed to delight in giving the files strange names that made it impossible to locate specific information. He'd found schematics on the Gateships saved under 'Puddlejumpers', for instance.

As far as he'd been able to comprehend, the humans had arrived in the Pegasus Galaxy about two rotations of the planet ago, and had promptly commenced fighting the Wraith, much like the Lanteans before them. Although Thorac was fairly impressed that they were still alive after all that time, they seemed to considerably outnumbered, lacking sufficient power to properly utilise Atlantis and had no records of any ships capable of space travel apart from the Gateships and a Earthian ship they called the "Daedalus' which seemed to be primarily used for transport and supplies.

At least he wouldn't have to consider them a serious threat – except for occasions where he found himself alone in their city, of course…

John mentally ran through every swear word that he'd ever learnt as he raced through the halls towards the control room. He'd been hoping that Thorac's bunch of wraith groupies wouldn't be able to figure out where he'd been taken, or better yet wouldn't care. He should've known better. Nothing was ever simple in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Elizabeth beckoned him over to where she was standing watching the blue event horizon of the gate anxiously. Fortunately the shield was up, but John found himself wondering whether the Wraith Worshipers would be able to deactivate it remotely. The level of technology that they'd displayed previously was disturbing to say the least.

"What have they said so far?" he asked her, noticing the worry lines that had etched their way onto her face. The last few years had been hard on her, but he suspected that, like him, she wouldn't change a thing. Well, except for the Wraith and Genii, of course. And a few extra ZPM's couldn't hurt. And maybe a few Atlantean Warships – that'd be cool.

She sighed. "They requested to speak with Thorac. When we told them that he'd already left they accused us of lying and asked to speak with you. You seem to have made quite the impression with these people."

John shrugged. "I'm offended that they'd think we'd lie to them," he remarked.

"We are lying to them, John," Elizabeth replied dryly.

"Yes, but they don't know that. They're just assuming we are."

"That's a pretty fine line," Elizabeth commented. "So we're just going to deny all knowledge and involvement in their Wraith's whereabouts?"

John nodded. "They'll realise that we're blocking them, but it should buy us some time to sort this out. Maybe set up a supposed Genii ambush or something – we know that they like collecting Wraith."

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, mentally weighing the pro's and con's of John's strategy. Finally she nodded. "Very well, see how long you can delay them for. When they disengage we'll send a team out to a likely planet to set up a crime scene."

John nodded and moved over to the communicator. With a nod to the technician to activate the control, he spoke in the com. "This is John Sheppard. I believe you wanted to talk to me."

There was a moment's silence, and then a young woman responded. "This is Shaya of the Protectorate. We want to know where Thorac is, and what you have done with him."

"Thorac left just after we arrived." John responded smoothly. "I'm afraid I'm not sure where he's gone, but I'm sure he'll get in touch with you as soon as possible."

"If Thorac had left Atlantis straight away, which given his fascination with the place is unlikely, then he would've returned to the cloaked Gateship that he left on the planet that you collected him from. Furthermore, there has been no record of outgoing wormhole activity from this address since you left for the Spacestation. Therefore, we can only conclude that he is still on Atlantis."

"I assure you, Thorac is no longer in Atlantis," John replied. "You are welcome to search every holding cell in the place, but you'll be wasting your time – Thorac is not here."

"Why thank you for your kind invitation, Lieutenant Colonel," Shaya said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "We should reach your little city mid-afternoon tomorrow, and when we do we will search every single room if we have to. And I hope for your sakes that he is alive and well, because otherwise the last thing we'll do is re-submerge Atlantis – this time without the shield. Have a nice night, Sheppard."

A burst of static signalled the end of the transmission.

"That went well," Rodney remarked from where he'd been observing the exchange. "It figures that the one alien woman that doesn't fall at your feet would be the one who we need to believe you."

John glared at him. This whole thing was Rodney's fault, after all. At least, it was if you squinted at it from the right angle. If Rodney had been able to run faster then none of this would've happened. With a sigh John realised he was becoming irrational.

"Could they really reach here that quickly?" Elizabeth asked Rodney, sounding concerned.

Rodney frowned. "I don't know. Theoretically, the speed of travel within hyperspace depends on the velocity at which the ship enters and the speed that the hyperspace drives are capable of maintaining. With a ZPM the Daedalus was able to reach Atlantis within three days. So if they had a similar power source, then yes, they should be able to reach here within that time frame."

"The shield should be able to keep them out though, right?" John interjected hopefully. "They just had that little ship – it couldn't be able to do that much damage."

"That little ship managed to destroy a fleet of darts and escape from a Wraith Hive Ship," Rodney pointed out. A look of horror flitted across his face as a thought occurred to him. "Oh God, we're all going to die."

"Enough with the drama, McKay," John snapped. "What is it?"

"Wraith," Rodney managed. "Thorac is a Wraith."

"We're aware of that, Rodney. What's your point?"

"So the rest of his Hive aren't going to be overly impressed by his disappearance. They'll be sending a Hive ship to destroy us," Rodney said, looking panicked.

"There's nothing on the long range scanners, Rodney," Elizabeth protested. "It'd take weeks for a Wraith Hive ship to reach Atlantis."

"At the level of technology that we've encountered so far, yes," Rodney agreed. "But the ship that Thorac's companions were in looked far more advanced than that. It's possible that he's found a way to combine Wraith and Ancient technology."

"And that would be bad?" John asked, just to clarify the point.

Rodney turned his troubled blue eyes to his friend. "Very bad," he said simply.

"Lieutenant."

The voice cut into Thorac's focused search of the Atlantean's database, and he looked up hastily, fearing discovery. A short crazy haired man with glasses peered at him curiously across the lab.

"Yes, uh, Doctor?" Thorac asked innocently, his borrowed knowledge helpfully supplying the correct title.

"What are you doing here?" Zelenka asked crossly, striding across the lab.

"Well," Thorac began, thinking rapidly in an attempt to produce a plausible excuse.

"I suppose you're going to tell me that you've managed to destroy the latest laptop that we gave you lot? Tell me Lieutentant, what toy was it mistaken for this time? A football? A Frisbee? If you lot don't stop being so careless I'll direct all laptop repair requests to Dr McKay, hmm? That will encourage you Marines to be more careful with expensive equipment."

Thorac stared at the small man in bemusement as he released his tirade. Much as he prided himself in his knowledge of other cultures, he could barely make any sense of the Doctor's rant. And he didn't think that the unusual accent was the problem, either. Before he could even think of replying, the short man continued.

"And shouldn't you be in the mess hall, anyway?"

"The mess hall?" Thorac repeated puzzled, unable to think of a suitable response. Was he on garbage duty or something? And why weren't the Atlantean's using the city's automatic rubbish disposal system instead of storing their mess in a hall?

"Yes, the mess hall," Zelenka replied, rolling his eyes in a manner eerily similar to Dr McKay. "You are supposed to be meeting Dr Anderson for dinner, remember. She has spoke of nothing else all day. It is tiring."

Thorac nodded with a careful expression of comprehension on his face. "Right. Dr Anderson. I'll just um…"

"Yes, go, shoo," stated the crazy little man, flapping his hands at Thorac. "Stop wasting my time."

Thorac nodded mildly, slipping from the lab as quickly as possible. And to think that he'd classed the Genii as insane. In comparison to this lot they seemed quite harmless – much in the manner that an Iratus bug might appear harmless next to a Wraith…

Standing in the corridor, he glanced back swiftly to make sure that the crazy little man wasn't following. He had discovered at an early age that it didn't hurt to be cautious – it was probably the reason that he was still alive.

After a moment's hesitation he accessed Atlantis's network and requested the location of the Atlantean's mess hall. The city obligingly provided him with a mental map which led him to a large room filled with tables and chairs. To his considerable relief it was not as messy as the name implied – though there were a few less than tidy eaters around – the Runner, for one.

Carefully maintaining a safe distance from the large warrior – just in case – he scanned the faces in the room until he identified the one that had been labelled as Dr Emily Anderson in the personnel files he'd found in the confidential folder on the humans data device.

Hesitantly he approached the table. Unsure of what to say he hovered nearby for a few moments before she looked up and noticed him.

"Scott," she said in delight. "I wasn't sure if you'd be able to make our date, what with all the current drama."

Thorac smiled uneasily. Date? "I came as quickly as I could," he replied neutrally.

Dr Anderson beamed at him. "I'm glad. Sheppard usually works you so hard, my poor darling. Sit down and eat something – you looked positively starved."

Obeying, Thorac mused that he probably looked more horrified than hungry. It's not like the Wraith had much of a dating system, even when he had lived among them, and he certainly had never contemplated dating a human. He had absolutely no idea of what to say to this strange female who was under the impression that he was her boyfriend.

He picked listlessly at an unidentifiable item of food, more to negate the need to talk than out of any desire to discover what it tasted like. Tasting it, he hastily hid a grimace and ignored the urge to spit it out. On the other hand, how bad could conversation be…?

Pretty bad, he decided gloomily not long later as Dr Anderson – or Emily, as she insisted he call her – showed no sign of finishing her long and boring account of some cave painting they'd found on planet PX-whatever, which while it had absolutely no useful purpose whatsoever, provided some valuable insight into the culture of the people who used to inhabit the planet. Thorac liked history as much as the next person, so long as it had some relevance to the present. At over 10 000 years of age he practically was history. However, directions to an Atlantean or Wraith outpost were interesting, insights into a long dead culture that nobody had really cared about to begin with were not. End of story.

It figured really. Out of all of the Marines in the city, he'd had to pick the one with an archaeologist for a girlfriend to impersonate. "I'm sorry," he said to her, interrupting her attempt to explain why two identical shapes held a different meaning when the colours were different, and trying his best to actually sound apologetic. "I should be getting back to work."

Emily pouted slightly, but didn't argue as he stood up to leave. Instead she stood up as well and wrapped her arms tightly around him. It took Thorac several very long seconds to register that he was not under attack – this was merely some weird human gesture of affection. Emily batted her eyelashes at him and smirked. "What, no good bye kiss?" she asked affectionately.

Thorac froze, staring down at her in absolute panic. "Oh look, Colonel Sheppard," he said hastily, peering over her shoulder. "I've got to go speak to him. Sorry." He disengaged himself from her grasp and took off across the mess hall as fast as he could without actually running.

Ducking out of sight onto an empty balcony he hoped that the Doctor wouldn't be too cross with the real Lieutenant when Thorac left. Speaking of whom, he supposed that it might be a good idea to go check on the hapless marine and make sure that the illusion was still holding. It would be rather inconvenient to have two Scott's running around after all – though at least he wouldn't have to pretend to be dating Dr Anderson again.

With a quick check to make sure that the coast was clear, Thorac slipped back into the hallway and proceeded to make his way down to the infirmary.

Meanwhile, in the conference room John was listening with increasing boredom as Rodney and Zelenka outlined ways that could possibly boost the shield's power and extend the period that they could keep the city shielded. It wasn't like Elizabeth was going to tell them that they couldn't make the adjustments, especially since it was highly unlikely that anyone besides the two scientists had any idea of what the other was talking about.

This theory was supported by Teyla's polite but vacant smile, Ronon's preoccupation with one of his knifes (Elizabeth had given up on convincing him that it really wasn't necessary to carry so many knifes while on Atlantis. Ronon had simply stopped carrying his obvious ones and doubled the number of concealed knifes on his person.) and Elizabeth's diplomatic face – the one that hid whatever it was that she was actually thinking.

He had to suppress a sigh of relief when Rodney finally finished his presentation and Elizabeth nodded her approval.

"Get onto it as soon as possible," she said firmly, looking around the table. "Was there anything else?"

John was already halfway out of his seat when Rodney glanced up from his data pad. "Actually, there was one other thing."

Drat, John muttered to himself. So close and yet so far.

"When our 'guest' arrived, I assigned a couple of people to search the database for any reference of Wraith having the ATA gene. There was absolutely nothing in the regular records of the Wraith, but earlier one of them found an interesting record of a Council meeting that might be relevant. The Council records don't form part of the normal database, which is why it took them so long to find this."

"Get to the point, McKay," John interrupted, far more interested in listening to whatever it was that Rodney had discovered and getting the heck out of the meeting room then hearing the entire history behind it's discovery.

Rodney looked momentarily distracted. "Yes, well, anyway the Council record contains information of a proposal by a scientist named Baltash. It seems that he wanted to experiment with combining Ancient and Wraith DNA to create some sort of super-being. He thought that an army of these people would be able to easily overcome the Wraith, and free the galaxy."

"I can't imagine that the Council would've liked that idea," Elizabeth commented. "A Wraith with the powers of an Ancient."

"Hmm, it seems that Baltash saw it the other way around – an Ancient with the power of a Wraith. They were already trying to achieve immortality – this would've been a practical solution," Rodney replied, glancing at his notes. "Anyway, the Council vetoed the idea and that's where it gets interesting. Baltash moves his research base to another planet and pretty much drops off the charts. There is no mention of any further research, no record of him returning to Earth with the rest of the Ancients, nothing."

"You think that he continued his experiments without the knowledge of the council?" Teyla asked, frowning.

"It seems likely, especially given what we know."

"You mean that Thorac is one of this Baltash's experiments?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes widening.

"In most probability," Rodney replied. "The important question though, is how many more of them did he make?"

John grimaced. "Only one way to find out," he said grimly. "We ask Thorac."

"That's a brilliant idea, Colonel. Why didn't I think of it?" Rodney snapped. "Oh, I know, because he doesn't remember anything and thinks that he's a human. Ring any bells?"

"We'll just have to stop the treatment and let him revert back to his normal form," John said calmly. "Michael seemed to regain most of his memories once the drug wore off."

"Michael didn't return to being fully Wraith, though," Teyla pointed out. "And it's unlikely that Thorac will wish to cooperate after the way we've treated him."

"If we're right then Thorac was never fully Wraith to begin with," John pointed out. "And he'll cooperate."

"I agree with John," Elizabeth said decisively. "If Thorac knows anything about this then we need to question him about it." Reaching for her radio, she tapped it on. "Dr Beckett?"

"Yes, lass?" the doctor replied promptly.

"We need you to stop using the drugs on the Wraith," Elizabeth said firmly. "I'll explain it to you when we get down there, but for the moment we need to talk to Thorac."

There was a long pause, then Carson sighed in acknowledgement. "Verra well, but I doubt that he's gonna be very happy when he wakes up."

"Understood, Elizabeth out," she replied, closing the channel.

"Well people, it looks like Thorac owes us some answers," John announced, glancing around at his team.

Teyla frowned, but refrained from commenting, Ronon just grunted in acknowledgement, Rodney was engrossed in either a complicated scientific equation or a game of solitaire, and Elizabeth just looked thoughtful.

'Well," John continued, disappointed with the lack of a response, "if that's all how about we meet at the infirmary in two hours? And in the meantime I've got some military stuff to take care of, so if I could be excused?" he looked hopefully at Elizabeth who nodded vaguely.

With a sigh of relief John escaped from the room as quickly as possible. Now he just had to find somewhere out of the way to hang around, before Elizabeth realised that there wasn't a lot of 'military stuff' happening at the present time, apart from the preparations for the oncoming attack which had become so commonplace that Lorne was perfectly capable of overseeing everything.

Turning the corner he spotted Lieutenant Scott Rodgers strolling purposely down the corridor in front of him. "Ah Lieutenant, wait up," he called, jogging to catch up. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, sir," the Lieutenant replied, eyeing John uneasily.

"Excellent," John said with a grin. "You've just volunteered to accompany me down to the North Pier to check for potential ambush sites."

"Uh, yes sir," the Lieutenant replied reluctantly, and moved to follow John to the nearest transporter.

TBC.


	5. Memories

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. (-:

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and the associated characters don't belong to me.

**Memories**

The small ship soared through hyperspace at maximum speed, the engines whining slightly at the enforced pace. Behind it, safely cloaked to avoid detection, a fleet of considerably larger warships followed, primed for destruction.

Inside the small vessel, Shaya was tapping her fingers against the control panel in a constant rhythm that was beginning to get on Kalak's nerves.

"How much longer?" he asked her, more to distract her from her nervous tapping then from an actual desire to know.

Much to Kalak's relief she paused mid-tempo in order to lean forward and check the readings. "About eight hours," she said, grinning viciously. "And the warships are set to exit hyperspace immediately after our ship so any energy signatures will be contributed to our arrival."

Kalak nodded, mentally running over their plan of action. "We'll need to be careful approaching the planet," he noted thoughtfully. "Thorac mentioned that Atlantis had a ring of satellites for defence, and I'm not sure that our shields could withstand a direct hit."

"I doubt that they're still functional," Kilatha interjected from the rear of the ship. "Unlike ours, the early versions of the satellites didn't have shielding, so most of them would have been destroyed by the Wraith in order to attack Atlantis directly."

"Well, that'll certainly make things easier," Kalak said with a sigh of relief. "Though it would've looked impressive destroying the satellites before reaching the planet. Might've made them more agreeable."

"Oh I think they'll see reason," Shaya said quietly, her voice dangerously calm.

Involuntarily, Kilatha shivered. "We're not really going to destroy Atlantis, are we?" she asked nervously. "Thorac wouldn't be pleased if we did – he's practically obsessed with that place."

"That depends on what they've done with Thorac," Shaya said coldly. "If he's alive and well then they have nothing to worry about."

"And if he isn't?" Kilatha asked reluctantly.

There was no answer as Shaya began to drum her fingers on the control panel again, the rhythm disturbingly similar to that of funeral drums. Kalak sighed in frustration. It was going to be a long eight hours.

The North Pier was abandoned when John reached it, accompanied by the strangely reluctant Lieutenant Rodgers. Normally the Marines were happy for an excuse to escape the madness that surrounded an impending attack, but Rodgers was acting usually jumpy for the normally calm officer. John frowned slightly as he contemplated the other's silence.

"Lieutenant," he said finally, startling the other man.

"Yes, Sir?" Rodgers asked, glancing around nervously.

"Relax, Lieutenant, I'm not going to eat you," John said with a smirk, peering out onto one of the balconies. This meant that he missed the shocked stare the marine gave him before managing to present a more composed expression.

"Of course, Sir," was the neutral reply.

"So, how are you finding life on Atlantis?" John asked, glancing at his silent companion. Lieutenant Rodgers had arrived in Atlantis almost a year ago, but John had never had the time to properly talk to him and see how he was settling in.

The Lieutenant looked slightly flustered by the question. "It's fine," he replied quietly, then as John was despairing of getting any replies longer than three words, he looked up and smiled. "Actually, it's incredible. I never imagined that I'd find myself wandering around such a fascinating place. There is so much history contained within these walls, it would take several lifetimes to properly study everything."

John raised an eyebrow. "I never took you for a history buff, Lieutenant."

Rodgers shot him an indecipherable look. "It's somewhat of a hobby, Sir."

John nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that's why you and Dr Anderson get along so well," he commented. "I had wondered what you had in common."

Rodgers grimaced slightly. "She's a wonderful woman, Sir."

"I'm sure she is, Lieutenant. How long have you two been together now?" John asked curiously, watching the man's reaction with interest.

"It's our half-year anniversary next month, Sir," Rodgers replied shortly.

"I'm impressed that you can remember," John remarked casually. "I'm always getting in trouble for forgetting special occasions. Did you know that some people celebrate one week anniversaries?"

Rodgers gave a slight involuntary shudder, and glanced nervously over his shoulder. "It's a little hard to forget," he replied with a frown. "She only mentioned it five times at dinner today."

John grinned in amusement. "One of those, huh?"

At Lieutenant Rodgers puzzled glance, he elaborated. "Some women feel that we are incapable of getting hints subtler than a sledgehammer to the head."

"Sledgehammer, Sir?" Rodgers asked, sounding alarmed.

John glanced at his worried face in surprise. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

Rodgers considered this for a moment, and then nodded in comprehension. John made a mental note to screen for literacy skills in the future.

"So, see any potential problems?" John asked gesturing at the surrounding area.

"Sir?" Rodgers asked, puzzled with the sudden change of subject.

John suppressed a sigh. "For the attack."

Rodgers stopped and stared at John in alarm. "Attack?"

John frowned. "Weren't you one of the men who escorted Thorac to the cells?"

A hint of alarm flickered across Rodgers face. "The Wraith? Yes, Sir."

"Well the rest of his people have decided that they want him back. They'll be here in a couple of hours."

Rodgers frowned. "And they're going to attack the city?"

"If we don't let them have Thorac, yes," John replied impatiently.

"So you'll return Thorac to them and they'll go away. I wouldn't…I'm sure that he wouldn't let them destroy Atlantis," Rodgers replied cheerfully.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid that promises mean very little in the Pegasus Galaxy," John said bitterly, annoyed by the Lieutenant's optimism. "In the circumstances I think it's best that we expect the worst."

The Lieutenant opened his mouth to argue, but John ruthlessly cut in before the marine found the opportunity to irritate him further. "It'll be quicker if we split up. You check the rooms on that side of the corridor, and I'll check the ones on this side. We'll meet at the balcony at the end of the hall. Understood?"

Rodgers nodded, and disappeared into the nearest room before John could change his mind. John frowned and entered the first room on his side. Something felt wrong, but he couldn't figure out what exactly. Hoping that it would come to him with time he began a swift check of the Ancient devices stored in the room.

Dr Beckett frowned at the security camera image in front of him in frustration. It had been several hours since the Wraith turned human was supposed to have the drug and so far he'd displayed none of the reversal that was expected at this stage.

It would be terrible luck if the one time that the changes wrought by the retrovirus were permanent was the time that they actually wanted to undo said changes.

"Is everything alright, Dr Beckett?" a soft voice asked behind him.

Dr Beckett jumped and spun around in surprise. "Teyla lass, you scared the daylight out of me."

Teyla smiled gently. "I'm sorry. You just seemed troubled."

Dr Beckett sighed. "It's the prisoner, I'm afraid. He's not reverting back to his Wraith form like we expected. I'm worried that the ATA gene may have changed the retrovirus's affected, making the change permanent."

"You mean that George might remain a human without the drug?" Teyla asked frowning. "But isn't that a good thing?"

"Normally aye, but not when his people are prepared to tear the city apart in order to find him. We can't exactly hand him over like this – here's your new improved edible friend," Dr Beckett replied miserably.

"Don't worry, I'm sure everything will work out fine," Teyla said, smiling reassuringly. "If you like, I will go speak with him and see if he is starting remember anything."

"That'd be great, lass," Dr Beckett said, glancing at the monitor in the vain hope that George had turned green or something in the last two minutes. "Be careful though."

Teyla smiled. "I will be fine. I'll bring him something to eat. It's a bit late for dinner, but he won't know that."

"Just as long as you're not the main course," Dr Beckett frowned in concern.

"At least then we'll know that he's returning to normal," Teyla replied with a soft smile as she slipped from the room.

Dr Beckett returned his attention to the security feed. Of all the problems they'd had with the retrovirus in the past, this was by far the most unexpected.nge permanant.ffected the retrovirus's ermantantly e the Wraith turned human was supposed to have the dr

Thorac looked around the room in interest, noting the abundance of Lantean technology. The room had been designed as an experimental lab – one that was far enough from the control tower to permit Lantean scientists to create the more dangerous devices with little risk to the essential areas of the city.

By the look of the collection of devices stacked around the room, the human's had decided to use the lab for storage – of what exactly, Thorac was unsure. They had toys sitting next to explosives, which were piled on top of gardening equipment. The entire place looked like an accident waiting to happen.

"There you are," a voice behind him stated, causing Thorac to spin around in alarm. It was rare for a human to be able to sneak up on him, though to be fair he did have a lot on his mind.

"Colonel," he said in acknowledgement of the man's presence. "I thought we were supposed to meet at the end of the corridor?"

"We were," John agreed, "but so far its taken you half an hour to search three rooms."

"I wanted to be through," Thorac said, glancing around at the contents of the room. "There's a lot of stuff in these rooms that could be dangerous."

John sighed. "Everything in here has been classified as safe by the science team. They're simply being stored until we can spare the personnel to examine them further, which mightn't be for years."

Thorac had to work hard not to launch into a tirade of just how stupid the science team actually was. They had bombs stored in this room, for light's sake. Even Kilatha, his newest apprentice, could've easily identified what was what. Just how much knowledge had been lost during the Lantean's self-imposed exile on Earth?

"Yes, Sir," he said instead. It seemed to be the default phrase for the human soldiers, so it was less likely to raise undue suspicion. "In that case I suppose we better finish checking the rest of the rooms." After all, this stuff had survived here for 10 000 years, and with any luck it'd be another 10 000 before these humans thought to look at them again.

He glanced back at the Colonel only to see him reaching for one of the objects sitting innocently on the workbench.

"No, don't touch that," Thorac shouted without thinking, but it was too late – John's hand brushed against the surface of the bomb and the device activated.

With a muttered Wraithian curse. Thorac tackled the Colonel to the floor in an attempt to shield him from the worst of the blast. The man's startled stare was the last thing he saw before the bomb exploded and everything went black.

Teyla smiled gently at George as she entered his room with a tray of food. The former Wraith was staring at his reflection in the mirror in annoyance.

"Hi," he said, gifting her presence with a bright smile. "I wasn't sure if you'd be coming back."

"I said I would, did I not?" Teyla replied, neglecting to mention that were it not for Dr Beckett's concern she would've avoided the man as much as possible. She set the tray of food down on the desk and stepped back. Her sharp eyes studied him carefully, but couldn't detect any sign of the changes that had appeared whenever Michael had been reverting back to human form.

"I noticed that you were studying your reflection," she remarked hopefully, glancing towards the mirror. "Have your memories started to return?"

To her disappointment George shook his head and sighed. "I was hoping that seeing my face might spark some recollection, but it's a complete blank. It's like I don't even have a past."

Sighing slightly, she pushed the tray towards him. "Have something to eat," she suggested. "You'll need to keep your strength up."

George nodded gratefully. "Thanks," he said, picking up a fork and poking doubtfully at a pile of mush that had been labelled as Shepherd's Surprise. Rodney had informed her that the surprise was whether you survived the meal. Teyla hoped that he had only been joking, though he had seemed rather serious at the time.

George managed to swallow one mouthful of the food without dying, but he didn't seem inclined to finish the unappealing mush. Instead he picked up the pudding cup and tasted that.

"Mmm, Butterscotch, my favourite," he remarked happily, quickly devouring the rest of the cup.

Teyla stared at him in concern. As far as she was aware George had never tasted the puddings before, let alone having developed a favourite.

It seemed that the same thing had occurred to George. "Hey, I remember eating pudding before," he exclaimed in delight. He looked at Teyla intently. "I know you," he said, oblivious to Teyla's alarm. "You're that Athosian on Colonel Sheppard's team. The one who teaches fighting with those Bantos rods."

Teyla stepped back cautiously. "How do you know all this?" she asked.

George looked puzzled. "I told you, I remember. Everything's still fuzzy, but I remember being here. I remember fighting the Wraith. I even remember Earth."

Teyla shook her head. "That's not possible."

George frowned. "What do you mean? Why isn't it possible?"

"Because you're not human," Teyla replied sadly.

The first thing that Thorac noticed was pain. He hurt all over, especially on his back which had caught most of the debris from the explosion. Groaning slightly, he forced his eyes open, hissing at the bright light from the window. He took a moment to consider this before he realised two things – firstly, it had been night when the device exploded, and secondly, the lab didn't have a window.

Sitting up took a bit of effort, but Thorac managed it for long enough to get a proper look around. The first thing that he noticed was that the second statement was no longer true – the explosion had destroyed most of one wall, leaving a gaping hole overlooking the ocean. And since it was now day outside, he realised that he must've been unconscious for several hours while his body attempted to heal the damage sustained trying to shield the Colonel.

Speaking of whom…Thorac glanced at the human lying on the floor next to him. Sheppard was still alive – barely – but he looked in fairly bad shape. Thorac wasn't an expert on human physiology, but he was pretty sure that they weren't supposed to lose quite that much blood, or remain unconscious for several hours without medical attention.

He sighed and looked for the Colonel's radio – his own not being much use since it was merely an extension of his illusion. It didn't take him long to find it – or what was left of it anyway. It seemed that the radio, like everything else, was a casualty of the explosion. Attempting to connect to Atlantis's network didn't work either – the entire section of the city seemed to be offline. A failsafe for faulty experiments, he supposed.

Thorac frowned anxiously as he considered the human. He wouldn't survive much longer with medical help, and even then it would probably be unlikely that the Colonel would live. It was a miracle that he'd held on this long. Thorac supposed that he could always wait for the humans to find them, but if they hadn't managed to locate them in the five or so hours that he'd been unconscious, it was unlikely that they'd do so now. It was entirely possible that they weren't even aware that they were missing.

With a grimace Thorac made his decision and dropped his illusions. This would take all his strength. 'Sheppard better be grateful for this,' was his final thought before he reached out and began to heal the injured human.

Teyla was in the infirmary with Dr Beckett and Elizabeth discussing George's insistence that he remembered being on Earth and Atlantis before when it happened. One moment George could be seen wandering around aimlessly on the security feed, the next a confused Lieutenant Rodgers was demanding to know what was going on.

The three of them took one look and hurried to the room where George was been kept.

"George?" Dr Beckett asked breathlessly, as they burst into the room.

Lieutenant Rodgers looked at him as though he were insane. "It's Scott," he replied, frowning. "I'd expect that sort of forgetfulness from Dr McKay," he continued, "but you can usually recall my name."

"What is the last thing that you remember?" Teyla asked quickly.

Rodgers looked thoughtful. "We were escorting the Wraith to the holding cells," he replied finally. "He woke up and tackled me. That's the last thing I remember."

Dr Beckett looked horrified. "He must've switched identities somehow."

Elizabeth frowned. "You mean Thorac's been wandering around Atlantis all this time?"

"Aye. Who knows what kinda mischief he's managed to cause?" Dr Beckett replied, sounding worried.

Elizabeth tapped her radio. "Major Lorne, this is Elizabeth. Can you tell me where Lieutenant Scott Rodgers is?"

"I'm right here," interjected Lieutenant Rodgers.

"Last I saw him Ma'am, he was heading into a transporter with Colonel Sheppard," Lorne replied briskly. "That was last night, and I haven't seen either of them since."

"Find them, Major," Elizabeth ordered. "We have reason to believe that Lieutenant Rodgers is an impostor."

"Don't worry, Ma'am. We'll find them," Lorne replied before signing off.

"I'd like to help look," Teyla said firmly. "I know all the locations that the Colonel is most likely to be. It'd save time if we checked there first."

Elizabeth nodded her permission. "Try and find him before Thorac's people get here," she asked. "They seem more inclined to listen to him."

Teyla nodded and moved to leave, only to find her path blocked by a young Marine.

"Excuse me Ma'am," he said to Elizabeth, who looked up in concern.

"What is it, Corporal?" she asked.

"It's Thorac's people, Ma'am. They've arrived."


	6. Unexpected

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and associated characters do not belong to me.

HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed. Greatly appreciated. (-:

John regained consciousness slowly – his senses returning one at a time. He opened his eyes to see a Wraith staring down at him intently. Naturally, his first reaction was panic. With an undignified yelp he scrambled to the other side of the room and grabbed at the first weapon he could find – a weighted cylinder that was covered with ancient symbols.

Watching the Wraith carefully he was relived to see that it was unarmed and showed no sign of following him. In fact, there was something familiar about this particular Wraith…

"Thorac?" he asked warily, watching for any sign of sudden movement.

The Wraith nodded slowly, his cat-like eyes tracking John's actions. It reminded John uncomfortably of a predator stalking it's prey.

"What are you doing here?" he said warily, his eyes darting around the room, taking stock of the damage. "And where is Lieutenant Rodgers?"

Thorac moved slightly and gave a low hiss. John noted with satisfaction that it appeared to be hurt. "I imagine that Lieutenant Rodgers is currently engaged in attempting to explain why he's spent the last few hours in a locked room pretending to be a Wraith turned human," Thorac replied, a hint of amusement amongst the weariness evident in his voice.

John took a few moments to process that. "You were pretending to be Lieutenant Rodgers? But how? And why?"

Thorac grinned toothily. "I may have neglected to mention that my genetic abnormality extends to other talents then simply operating Lantean technology. As for the why, I may bear no ill-will towards humans, but that doesn't mean that I wish to become one. Besides, with my mixed genetics, who knows what the end result would've been?"

John considered that for a moment. "With the Wraith DNA completely suppressed you might've become fully Ancient," he mused softly.

At Thorac's look of surprise – or at least what passed for a surprised expression for a Wraith – he clarified his statement. "We found an entry in the council records – a scientist by the name of Baltash wanted to experiment with combining Wraith and Ancient DNA. I assume that you are somehow connected to that experiment – or rather the illegal experiments he conducted after the Council refused to approve his project."

Thorac nodded. "Baltash was my father," he said slowly.

John frowned. "You mean he was your creator?" he asked, his eyes widening as another possibility occurred to him. He shuddered slightly at the mental image of a Wraith and a human having sex. He'd need bleach to get that image out of his head.

Thorac laughed, a low throaty rumble that was eerily reminiscent of a cat's purr. "No, he was my father, but not like you're thinking. He combined his own DNA with that of a Wraithian Queen in order to create me."

"But you look so, well, Wraithish," John protested.

"That was my father's doing. The Lanteans were losing the war against the Wraith at that point, and he felt that I would be safer if I were able to blend in among them."

John nodded thoughtfully. From a military viewpoint it made sense – if you can't beat the enemy then blend in until you can. "Does that mean you don't need to feed?" he asked hopefully.

Thorac grimaced slightly in distaste. "My father was unable to find a way to separate the necessity of feeding from the longer lifespan of the Wraith."

John frowned in distrust. "So those Wraith Worshippers that you keep around, you just eat one of them when you feel hungry?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," replied Thorac calmly.

"Did Baltash make any more of your kind?" John asked, reminded of the reason why they'd decided to try and reverse the effects of the retrovirus in the first place.

"He tried," Thorac replied curtly.

"What happened?" John asked, warily shifting his grip on the Ancient cylinder. Thorac reminded him somewhat of Rodney after a long day of traipsing across an alien planet without much food. A Rodney that could suddenly decide to suck the life out of you, that is.

Thorac sighed softly. "He wanted to make a female as a companion for me. Unfortunately, the Wraith females have stronger minds and the creature he created was purely Wraith, with the abilities of a Lantean. She was too dangerous for my father to keep, so he had to destroy her."

"What about other males? Drones?" John asked.

"Giving Lantean abilities to a Drone would be like giving a bomb to a child. Foolish and dangerous." Thorac paused and looked at John pointedly before continuing. "And no, I'm the only Wraith that Father made before he left."

"Left? Left where?" John pursued.

Thorac looked away. "I don't know," he admitted. "He vanished not long after he sent me away. I came back and there was no trace of him or where he'd gone. I was hoping to find some mention of him in Atlantis's database – perhaps a record of him returning to Earth with the others or something."

John froze at that. If Thorac had been going through the database then there was a distinct chance that he'd found the address for Earth. It'd been bad enough that he knew that Atlantis was still intact, but Earth had to be protected at all costs.

Glancing up, he noticed that Thorac was glaring at him. "What?" he asked uneasily.

"I think I've been extremely patient, considering," Thorac snarled, sudden anger marring his features. "But this continued suspicion is unwarranted and insulting. I've know where Atlantis lay for millennia longer than you've been alive and I've never once revealed her location to the Wraith. Why would I do so now?"

John stared, alarmed by the Wraith's sudden and, from his point of view, unreasonable anger. Realisation struck like lighting – the creature could read his mind. In retrospect it made a warped kind of sense. The Wraith already possessed powerful mental abilities, and the Ancients were known to have developed extra senses as they approached ascension. Combine the two and…

Thorac continued angrily. "Twice I have saved your miserable life now, and yet you continue to treat me like an animal. What exactly does it take for you to accept that I mean you no harm?"

John just looked at him warily, unable to reply.

In the Gateroom chaos reigned. The small ship containing Thorac's people had simply appeared out of hyperspace above the planet and proceeded to demand entry to Atlantis.

Elizabeth wished that John was there and not off exploring the city with a disguised Wraith. He was good in situations like this – controlled and practical. Plus he had the ability to keep Rodney from hyperventilating over every little thing – much like he was now.

"Rodney!" she said sharply, horribly close to resorting to throwing something heavy at him. "Can they or can they not get past our shields?"

"I don't know," Rodney replied tersely. "I've never seen anything quite like their technology – it appears to be a hybrid of both Ancient and Wraith. It's impossible to say what it's capable of."

"Alright," she said, trying to think through the headache that was beginning to grow. "So what are our options?"

"It appears that we can either keep them out and hope that the shields hold, or let them land and see if they're willing to negotiate," Teyla said calmly, much to Elizabeth's relief. "The ship looks much like the one that we saw earlier which means that the crew are probably human."

Elizabeth considered this for a moment, and then nodded to the gate technician to drop the shields. "Unidentified ship, this is Elizabeth Weir, leader of Atlantis. Be advised you have clearance to land."

There was no response from the small ship, but at glance at the screen showed that it had changed course in order to approach Atlantis. To her surprise, instead of heading for one of the piers where it could land, it first made a pass over the control tower.

The reason for this became apparent as four figures beamed into the Gateroom, which to the dismay of the marines on duty. Elizabeth hastened to the railings and looked down in puzzlement at Thorac's representatives.

Beside her, Rodney was spluttering in disbelief. "But, but, they're children," he exclaimed.

In the middle of the Gateroom floor stood four children, their ages looking to vary from about 10 to maybe 15 at the oldest. Elizabeth hurried down the stairs to greet them, and hopefully find out what was going on.

"I'm Elizabeth Weir," she said, with a cheerfulness that she did not feel. "Welcome to Atlantis."

One of the girls, the one who looked to be around 12 years of age turned to face her. Elizabeth had to fight not to recoil from the girl's eyes. They were cold and knowing, the eyes of someone much older than a child.

"I'm Shaya," the girl said icily. "This is Kalak, Kilatha and Colin. We're here for Thorac. Return him to us now and you won't be harmed."

Elizabeth frowned. "Thorac has children working for him?" she asked in distaste.

Rodney stepped forward. "How about you let the adults handle this, hmm? Perhaps you could fetch someone over the age of say 20 that we can talk to?"

Shaya smiled unnervingly. "I'm 524," she stated coldly. "That old enough for you? Even Kilatha is over 60, Doctor. So, if you be so kind as to fetch our leader, hmm?"

Thorac groaned softly to himself as he leaned against the remains of the workbench, his senses keeping track of the Lieutenant-Colonel's movements. So far he hadn't done much, clearly preferring to remain on the opposite side of the room from Thorac. It reminded him of his people when they'd first become acquainted. It had taken many decades to develop the level of trust they now shared, and even now it never failed to amaze him how much they accepted him for what he was – a flawed creature at best.

He wondered where they were now – probably on route to Atlantis if Shaya had taken charge of his rescue. She was his first, the oldest of his companions, and she had remained loyal to him since the beginning. Others had come and gone, but not Shaya. He harboured a secret fear that she would one day find someone to settle down with, raise a family, live a normal life, but so far she'd shown little interest in such a course. He knew it was selfish of him, but he was glad that she had stuck around instead of going her own way.

The sound of Sheppard clearing his throat distracted him from his musings. Glancing over he met Sheppard's level gaze.

"So," Sheppard said, gesturing around at the room. "What exactly happened here anyway?"

Thorac shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable. "You don't remember?" he asked the Lieutenant-Colonel.

John shook his head. "I remember that Lieutenant Rodgers and I split up to search the rooms. Everything's a bit hazy after that."

Thorac nodded in understanding. "You came into the room to fetch me because I was taking too long checking the labs – I really don't think much of the storage system you've got going here, by the way. If these were the 'safe' objects then I'm not really sure that I want to see the dangerous ones. Though they're probably all gardening equipment or something equally harmless if this room is anything to judge by."

Sheppard frowned. "Hey, we're doing the best we can with what little knowledge of the equipment we have. It's not like the Ancient's left instruction books lying around."

"Anyway," Thorac continued, ignoring Sheppard's interruption. "You touched one of the bombs sitting on the workbench and activated it. It exploded, as you can see, and seems to have caused a fair bit of damage."

"I seem to recall you attacking me?" Sheppard queried thoughtfully.

"I was trying to shield you from the worst of the explosion," Thorac explained patiently. "Most people appreciate that sort of thing. Not that it did a lot of good, though. You were in pretty bad shape."

Sheppard stared at him in bewilderment. "I feel fine," he protested. "A little tired, maybe, but that's normal."

"Now you do," corrected Thorac. "I had to heal you – you weren't going to make it otherwise."

A look of horror passed briefly over Sheppard's face, and he lifted his hand to his chest. "You didn't?"

Correctly interpreting the gesture, Thorac shook his head reassuringly. "I used my Lantean ability to heal. Even if I'd had the life force to spare, I doubt that the gift of life would've been able to repair the damage in time."

Sheppard nodded gratefully, though he still looked slightly unnerved. "I appreciate it."

"Since you're feeling better perhaps we should consider relocating?" Thorac suggested. "While I love what you've done with the décor, I think I'd prefer to be somewhere that's not charred beyond hope of recovery."

Sheppard nodded slowly. "Alright, but don't try anything." He waved the weighted cylinder he'd found like a club to empathise his point.

Thorac debated whether he should inform Sheppard that his 'weapon' was a children's puzzle, and as such incapable of causing harm. He dismissed the thought a moment later – the humans appeared to be an insecure bunch, and thinking that he was armed might make Sheppard more comfortable in his presence.

They staggered away from the destruction, Sheppard still weak after his brush with death and Thorac feeling the effects of several days without food combined with the drain on his reserve energy from maintaining the illusions and healing Sheppard. An unlikely pair, but diaster had a funny way of highlighting people's similarities and downplaying their differences.

They had only made it as far as the end of the hall before they encountered their first problem. Atlantis had taken steps to protect the rest of the city from the explosion, and one of these measures was the complete lockdown of the affected area. The door leading away from the pier back towards the inhabited part of Atlantis was locked shut and refused to response to both Sheppard's and Thorac's commands to open.

Worst, with the city network in that area down, Thorac was unable to connect and disable the lockdown protocols mentally. He didn't have the strength reach further out and try to link with another part of the city and without the proper tools he doubted that he'd be able to bypass the locks on the door, not without causing considerable damage to the door anyway.

"So much for that plan," remarked Sheppard, studying the unyielding blockage in irritation. "Perhaps there's another way out?"

"Not unless you feel like going for a swim in sub-zero temperatures," replied Thorac, snarling at the door in frustration. "This entire section is completely closed off."

"Then I suppose we'd better find somewhere comfortable to wait for the others to rescue us," Sheppard said firmly. "It shouldn't take them long to notice my absence."

"Ah, but did you tell them where you were going?" Thorac pointed out. "Besides, with any luck my people should be here soon."

"All your kind say that," Sheppard remarked softly.

"But in my case it's actually true," replied Thorac smugly.

Sheppard sighed. "I know. We spotted your ship on the long range sensors."

Thorac frowned. "Just the one?" he asked urgently.

Sheppard nodded slowly. "Wait, you have more than one?"

"Many more," Thorac replied grimly. "And it's highly unlikely that they only brought one little ship on a rescue mission."

"You did," Sheppard pointed out, "twice."

"That was different," Thorac said distractedly. "They were stealth missions, this should be more of an intimidation mission."

"One ship isn't exactly intimidating," Sheppard remarked, concerned by Thorac's sudden worry.

"No, it's not," agreed Thorac. "Which means that the others must be still cloaked."

"Others?" Sheppard asked in alarm. "How many others?"

Thorac shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Probably two or three, maybe four."

"These are little ships, right?" Sheppard asked hopefully. "Same as the one that you were flying before?"

Thorac's seriously expression quickly killed that notion. "These are Battleships," he said sternly. "And the only reason that they wouldn't have uncloaked is to gain the element of surprise in a battle. My people come prepared to fight."

"Fantastic," muttered Sheppard sarcastically. "Why does everyone in this galaxy want to kill us?"

"Probably because you keep kidnapping their leaders?" Thorac suggested, ignoring the glare the Lieutenant-Colonel sent his way. "How did you manage to start a war with the Wraith anyway?"

"They're the ones who started it," Sheppard protested. "I just woke them up."

"Why?" asked Thorac incredulously. Sure, the Wraith were technically his kind, but there was no way he'd ever dream of trying to wake them up. Their tendency to sleep for centuries was the one real advantage he had over them. Necessity had driven him to spend most of his millennia awake, and developing new technology had helped him pass the time.

Sheppard sighed. "It was an accident."

"You woke up every single Wraith in Pegasus by _accident_?" Thorac exclaimed in disbelief. "How?"

"It's a long story," Sheppard muttered. "And how come you don't know this?"

"We tend to keep to our own little corner of the galaxy as much as possible," Thorac replied. "And it appears that we have plenty of time. Perhaps we should find a place to sit and you can explain how one manages to accidentally wake an entire species."

Shaya scowled at the Atlanteans sitting around the conference table. The leader, Elizabeth, had ushered them in there shortly after their arrival and had proceeded to launch into a long and distorted tale of why they couldn't simply hand Thorac over.

As far as she'd been able to follow, Thorac had manage to escape custody and gone into hiding disguised as one of their soldiers. The Atlanteans hadn't even noticed the switch until the illusion had vanished about an hour ago. That was the part that bothered her – Thorac should've been able to maintain the illusion for more than a few hours. That meant that he was probably seriously hurt or starving. She refused to even contemplate the other possibility, that despite their best efforts they may have arrived too late to help their friend.

"We've got every available member of our personnel searching for them as we speak," Elizabeth continued, desperately trying to reassure them. "One of our people is missing too."

"Good," said Shaya unfeelingly. "At least Thorac won't starve to death because you managed to lose him in your own city."

The giant, Ronon, growled at that and made to rise from the table, but Elizabeth stopped him with a look. Probably just as well, Shaya thought slightly regretfully. The way she felt right now she probably would've thrown him through a window or something.

Kilatha gasped in dismay at Shaya's statement. "Oh no, I'm sure that Thorac wouldn't do that. He doesn't like to kill people." Her too young face wore a seriousness that was entirely at odds with her appearance.

"Well, that's what he does though," Rodney remarked. "He's a Wraith. They kill people for food."

"It's not like they have much choice in the matter," Kalak protested. "I don't particularly agree with their food source, but it's not like they can live off plants or the like."

"Then they should starve," Ronon rumbled angrily.

Kalak sighed. "We did not come here to try and justify the actions of the Wraith. Our people fight them as well. We are simply here because you have our leader. Now, I suggest that you allow us to help find him, because Shaya here is somewhat trigger-happy and she's liable to start blowing stuff up if we don't find him soon. Agreed?"

Shaya grinned toothily. It was an accurate description. She'd always felt more at ease with a plan of action and something to fight. While Thorac was perfectly content to try and negotiate for peace, she preferred to shoot first and talk later. If nothing else it made people more agreeable.

Elizabeth nodded tightly. "Very well. But I must insist that you have an escort with you at all times. We wouldn't want for you to get lost."

Shaya mentally translated that to 'We don't trust you not to sabotage something, but we don't have much of a choice.'

"As you wish," Kalak replied diplomatically, before Shaya could say something that they might regret. "What areas remain to be searched?"

"Most of the city, I'm afraid," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "Atlantis is a big place, and the sensors haven't been able to detect them so far."

Kilatha frowned at that. "That means that they must be in a shielded area, or somewhere the sensors aren't working. Do you have any way of detecting those areas?"

Rodney considered it for a moment. "It's possible. If I adjust the sensors to register all life forms like bugs and stuff we should be able to identify the areas without sensor input."

"Do it," said Elizabeth decisively.

Rodney nodded and grabbed his laptop.

"I'll help," Kilatha volunteered.

Shaya considered for a moment and then nodded her agreement. "Very well. Let us know if you find anything."

Kilatha disappeared after Rodney at a jog. After Thorac, she was the most fascinated with Lantean technology, and the wonders of Atlantis were near impossible to resist.

"The rest of us will start looking while we wait," Shaya said firmly. "And you'd better hope that Thorac is alive and well."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the not so subtle threat, but chose not to respond. "Where would you like to begin?" she asked instead.

"I think we should start at the location where Thorac was last seen," Colin remarked, his sudden speech startling the Atlanteans. Shaya was used to his long silences – it usually meant that he was thinking.

"Alright," Elizabeth agreed. "I'll organise a team to show you the transporter that he and Colonel Sheppard were last seen at."

"Quickly, Dr Weir," Shaya interjected, glancing at the smooth skin of youth that covered her arms. They were running out of time, and if they didn't find Thorac soon he would be on his own.


	7. Deadline

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and associated characters don't belong to me.

Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed. (-:

John sighed heavily as he checked the time on his watch yet again. It had been about twelve hours since he'd first gone to check the North Pier with Lieutenant Rodgers, and he still hadn't been rescued.

For a moment he wondered if they'd even noticed that he was missing, but quickly dismissed the thought as traitorous. His people were undoubtedly doing the best they could, they were just being darn slow about it.

It probably didn't help that his only companion was a Wraith. To be fair to Thorac though, he'd been pretty good – the whole saving the life thing took a bit of getting used to. It was just that Thorac wasn't looking too good, and when it came right down to it, John didn't think that Thorac would choose to starve to death when John was sitting right next to him…

"Checking the time every 10 minutes isn't going to make them find us sooner," Thorac remarked tiredly. "They'll arrive when they arrive."

"You've been saying that for two hours now," John complained. "And they still haven't arrived. Are you sure that the explosion didn't damage the door controls?"

"No," Thorac admitted. "It's not my city. I have no idea what the schematics are, but the lab shouldn't have been connected to anything vital."

"It wouldn't be the first time the Ancients have done something stupid," John muttered in irritation. "Did you know they developed a fatal ascension machine?'

"So you said," Thorac replied wearily. "If you don't like the Ancients that much then why are you here?"

John shrugged. "They have really cool space ships. I like to fly."

Thorac looked amused. "So you choose to stay in a galaxy full of beings who want to kill you because you like to fly?"

"It's more than that. These are my people. It's my job to protect them," John said quietly, his gaze fixed on the far wall. "Besides, Atlantis is home."

Thorac nodded. "I understand," he said softly. "It's the same for me with my people, and our home. They're capable of looking after themselves, but I worry about them all the same." He groaned slightly as he shifted position, and broke into a coughing fit.

"Are you alright?" John asked, looking at him warily. "You look a bit pale."

Thorac huffed at that. "I'm a Wraith," he pointed out. "I'm supposed to look pale. And I'll be fine, provided my people reach me in time."

"How much time are we talking here?" John asked in suspicion.

Thorac sighed. "Four hours."

Shaya cursed in frustration as they traipsed through the hallways of Atlantis. This was taking far too long. They only had several hours to locate and rescue Thorac before it was too late for all of them. At least, she thought in satisfaction, she'd left the ships with standing orders to destroy Atlantis if they didn't return before the deadline. If they were going down then they were taking Atlantis with them.

If only there was some way to know where to look. Kilatha had managed to narrow the zones down to several areas, the largest of which was the entire North Pier. This was where Shaya, Kalak and Col were currently heading, with the company of several marines, a scientist with a funny accent and the giant – Ronon.

"Are you sure that there is no other way to locate Colonel Sheppard?" Col asked the scientist for the fifteenth time. "Surely you have some method of tracking him if gets lost or captured?"

"I already told you," the little scientist said in irritation, adjusting his glasses with one hand. "The tracker implanted on the Colonel doesn't work through the shields. We have to be within the shielded area before we can find it with our technology, and even then it may not work."

"So what happens if someone captures him and keeps him in a shielded cell?" Kalak asked curiously.

"Sheppard would find a way out," Ronan said firmly.

"That's your foolproof rescue plan?" Shaya said sarcastically, the conversation doing little to sooth her nerves. "Just sit around and wait for people to rescue themselves? That's brilliant, really, but we don't have the time. Find another way."

Ronon shot her an amused glance, reminding her that it was hard to be intimidating when you look all of about 10 years old. Just wait until she was normal size again, she fumed silently. She'd show him.

'What about Thorac?" the scientist asked Kalak, casting a nervous look in Shaya's direction. "Do you have any means of tracking him?"

Kalak shook his head. "Not here. It'd take to long to get pass the shields to do a bioscan. If only we had another Wraith…"

"Why's that?" the scientist asked, glancing around nervously as if he expected a Wraith to come out of the shadows.

"Shields don't affect the Wraith's mental network," Kalak explained. "They'd be able to communicate."

The scientist looked up at Ronon in excitement. "Teyla," he exclaimed gleefully.

Ronon frowned. "Are you sure?" he asked the scientist doubtfully.

The scientist nodded. "It's perfect. She'll be able to locate him and hopefully he'll know where the Colonel is situated."

"Uh, excuse me," Shaya interrupted, waving her hand in front of the scientist's face. "How exactly can Teyla help us?"

"She has some Wraith DNA," the scientist explained rapidly. "It enables her to communicate with the Wraith via their network. She may be able to reach Thorac."

Shaya considered this for a moment, and then nodded. "Well, hurry up then. What are you waiting for? Get this Teyla to talk to Thorac."

"Right," the scientist said, reaching for his radio. "I'll just run it past Dr Weir first."

"Quickly," Shaya interjected impatiently. "What?" she snarled at Ronon who was studying her with a puzzled expression on his face.

The large warrior shrugged. "Nothing," he said. "Except didn't you used to be bigger?"

Thorac sat in silence, his attention focused on keeping his most vital organs from shutting down. Being a Wraith he didn't need to eat very often, but the use of his Lantean abilities tended to shorten the periods between meals considerably. Unfortunately the events of the last two days had depleted his reserves to the point where he needed to feed almost immediately.

To his side he could sense Colonel Sheppard's wariness at his weakening state. Tempting though the notion to feed was, Thorac didn't think that it'd be advisable, especially since there was a chance that Sheppard's people might find them first.

And while he knew that he would return any life force borrowed, it seemed that Sheppard's people were inclined to be a suspicious group and probably wouldn't believe his good intentions…

Besides, he had owed it to his people to wait for them. If they died because of him, for him, then he had no right to survive in their stead.

The whisper of a mind reaching for his disturbed his thoughts. His first instinct was to ignore it - he had been avoiding the Wraith for so long that it had become second nature. There was a touch of familiarity to the mind though, and that made him pause.

Slowly and slightly clumsily he reached out with skills long disused and opened his mind to the caller. _'Ta'Marea?'_ he asked silently.

There was a wave of confusion and a negative reply. _'I am Teyla,'_ the caller replied. _'I am with the Atlanteans.'_

Of course, Thorac thought to himself. The Athosian with the Wraith DNA. _'Are my people there?'_ he asked her.

'_Yes,'_ Teyla said. _'Is Colonel Sheppard with you?'_

Thorac nodded from habit, forgetting for a moment that she couldn't see him. _'He is here,'_ he replied.

"Thorac?" John asked him, sounding alarmed. "What are you doing?"

Thorac looked at him vaguely – it was difficult concentrating on two conversations at the same time.

"It's your friend, Teyla," he replied softly. "She contacted me via the Wraith telepathic network."

"Why didn't we think of that?" John muttered to himself. "Ask her what's taking them so long."

'_He better be unharmed,'_ Teyla warned Thorac mentally, a strong sense of protectiveness accompanying the communication.

'_He is fine,'_ Thorac reassured her, sending an image of the Colonel to her mind. _'He is growing impatient with the delay, though.'_

There was a pause, then Teyla replied with a hint of amusement colouring her thoughts. _'Rodney says that he should've thought of that before he wandered off without letting anyone know where he was going. We haven't been able to locate either of you on the sensors. Where are you?'_

'_We're on the North pier, not far from the labs,' _Thorac replied. _'The Colonel accidentally set off a Lantean bomb and the entire section shut down in order to protect the city. We can't activate any of the controls from this side. If Kilatha is there then she should be able to override the shutdown protocols.'_

'_We'll get to work on it,'_ Teyla said swiftly. _'Tell Sheppard that we'll be there soon.'_

"Well?" John asked impatiently. "What's the delay?"

"They didn't know where you were," Thorac replied tiredly. "She said that they'd be here soon."

"Soon?" Sheppard asked him, his expression bordering on concern and wariness. "They'll be here before you need to feed, right?"

"You can only hope," Thorac replied with a small smirk.

Teyla regarded the scene before her with worry, and perhaps a hint of amusement. Nearly the entire science team was working on accessing the North Pier, though most were being careful to do so a safe distance from Rodney and Shaya.

Rodney was in full rant mode, his concern for Colonel Sheppard causing him to completely disregard everyone else. After a scientist had nearly been trampled by him, everybody was making sure to keep out of his way.

As for Shaya, she wasn't a scientist so there was little she could do besides wait impatiently and snap at anyone who came near her. At the moment, her target seemed to be Ronon. For some peculiar reason she seemed to delight in antagonising the large warrior, who seemed unsure whether or not to treat her like a child as per her appearance.

Kilatha was making herself useful – her knowledge of the Ancestor's technology rivalled even Rodney's – though it was extremely disconcerting to see a child of about five working with the scientists. Several people had nearly tripped over her, but no one felt inclined to say anything after the woman who'd suggested that she go play with the other kids had run off in tears.

"They seem worried," Elizabeth remarked, coming up beside her.

"Colonel Sheppard has been alone with the Wraith for a long time," Teyla remarked. "Perhaps that is causing concern."

'I meant Thorac's people," Elizabeth clarified. "They keep urging everyone to hurry up. I wonder what they haven't told us?"

"I thought it must be my imagination, but do they seem younger to you?" Teyla asked thoughtfully.

Elizabeth frowned as she studied the strangers. "A little bit, yes. Do you think it's connected?"

Teyla shrugged. "I've never heard of a people that age in reverse. I doubt that it is a natural occurrence."

"You think the Wraith…?" Elizabeth asked in horror.

"Possibly," Teyla said, her eyes tracking the scientists' progress as she talked. "It would make sense, especially with the current food shortages."

A whisper in her mind distracted her from the activity around her. _'Are you there?'_

Thorac, she realised, startled by his sudden presence in her mind. The Wraith method of communication still felt alien to her, though she had to admit that it could be very useful at times. _'I am here,'_ she replied softly. _'What do you want?'_

'_Sheppard wants to know if you will be much longer,' _Thorac replied, a trace of irritation accompanying his normal calm mental voice.

Teyla smiled slightly. _'I'm not sure,'_ she said apologetically. _'Everyone is working as hard as they can. Rodney thinks they can have it fixed within the hour.'_

There was a slight delay as the Wraith relayed this to the Colonel, and then his response was accompanied by a wave of exasperation. _'Sheppard says that means we'll be here for another day or so.'_

Teyla hesitated before asking a question that had been bothering her for a while. _'Earlier you called me Ta'Marea. Who is that?'_

There was a long hesitation before Thorac finally replied. _'Ta'Marea was a friend. I have not spoken with her in a long time.'_

'_Why?' _Teyla wanted to know.

'_It does not matter,'_ Thorac told her sternly, sending her a firm sense that the subject was off limits.

A touch on her arm pulled Teyla's attention back to her surroundings. Blinking slowly, she looked up to see Carson's concerned face staring down at her.

"Are you alright, lass?" he asked, swiftly checking her pupils to see if they responded to the light. "You gave us a scare, standing there mutely like that, as if you'd been drugged."

Teyla shook her head firmly as her senses refocused on reality. "I was just talking to Thorac," she explained. "Apparently John is feeling impatient."

"Aye, I can't say I blame the lad," Carson said gently. "Being trapped out there with a Wraith isn't something I'd like to experience."

Teyla nodded thoughtfully. "He seems different from other Wraiths," she said slowly, casting her mind back over her conversations with Thorac. "His mind is smoother, more orderly somehow. I think it might be the blood of the Ancestors that he carries."

"It's possible, luv," Carson said, relaxing once he was convinced that she was fine. "Who knows what affects that sort of combination could have?"

"I'm part Wraith," Teyla pointed out.

"Aye, and look at what abilities it has given you," Carson exclaimed. "The Council notes proposed a complete blend of the two strands of DNA, which means that Thorac could have any combination of abilities from the two species."

A shout from Rodney interrupted their conversation. Looking across, Teyla realised that they'd finally managed to cancel the lockdown and gain access to the North Pier.

John checked the time on his watch once again, partly because he was genuinely interested in how long he'd been stuck out on the pier alone with a Wraith, and partly because it annoyed said Wraith.

It was one of the few traits that John had keep from his childhood – when bored annoy someone. It was a simple hobby, easy to do, and fairly safe – except when your target was an alien who could literally kill you with one hand…

"Are you alright?" he asked Thorac, shifting slightly further away from the Wraith who was looking rather hungry.

"I will be," Thorac said simply, his eyes closed in tiredness.

"Uh huh," John said sceptically. "And what if your people don't make the deadline? You'll just keel over and die?" His hand instinctively tightened on the metal rod he'd been carrying since he woke up.

"No," replied Thorac quietly. "They will. I'll survive for at least several more days without sustenance."

John frowned at that. "So, they have to be near you in order to live?" Strangely enough, he hadn't thought that Thorac was the kind of being who approved of slavery.

Thorac sighed. "It's complicated," he muttered.

"It always is," John remarked.

"They stay with me because they chose to," Thorac insisted. "They are free to leave when they wish."

"Right," John said doubtfully. "So why will they die without you then?"

There was a long silence before Thorac answered. "It's connected to how I feed," he said reluctantly.

John narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Thorac paused, and then smiled slightly. "You'll understand when you see them," he said calmly.

It took John a few seconds to process that. "They're coming?" he asked hopefully.

Thorac nodded tiredly. "Any minute now."

John didn't think he'd ever been quite so relieved to see his team as he was right now – expect maybe whenever the Genii were involved. He wasn't sure which group he disliked more – the Genii or the Wraith. It was pretty close either way.

To his intense surprise a group of four children detached themselves from the main group and flung themselves at Thorac.

"Whoa, that's not a good idea," he exclaimed, grabbing one of the boys as he raced past. The boy twisted in his grasp and turned to face John.

John let go of him in shock. "Kalak?" he asked in disbelief.

The child of about seven nodded seriously. "It is good to see you again John Sheppard," he said smiling cheerfully. "Though I had hoped that the circumstances might be different."

"How?" John managed to ask, his glaze darting over the group of kids. To his astonishment he recognised Shaya standing protectively near Thorac, and the other two seemed vaguely familiar as well.

"We're genetically modified to produce the life force that Wraiths need in order to survive. Unfortunately the build-up of life-force has the opposite effect to the feeding process and we appear younger as the amount increases," Kalak explained.

John frowned at that. "Thorac said you could leave at any time," he said, glaring at the Wraith who was chatting to what appeared to be a four year old.

"We can," Kalak said calmly, "but why would we want to?"

"But if you leave then you'll die," John argued. "That's not much of a choice."

Kalak smiled. "The modifications can be reversed," he explained. "Many of the Companions have chosen to start families and lead normal lives."

John nodded thoughtfully. So this was how Thorac got his food supply. He didn't particularly like the idea of humans being modified for food, but at least they weren't being captured and killed.

A startled exclamation from one of the marines caused to John to spin around in alarm, just in time to see Thorac and the two youngest children disappear in a beam of light.

Elizabeth tapped on John's arm to gain his attention. "One of the Marines just reported that Thorac's ship has left Atlantis and is now hovering over the city. They want to know if they should shoot it down?"

John considered it for a moment, and then shook his head. He owed it to Thorac after he'd saved his life – again, and he clearly remembered the Wraith's worried expression as he'd insisted that his people had brought several battleships with them.

Shaya looked almost disappointed at his response, but Kalak smiled brightly.

"Hopefully, the next time our paths cross it will be in better circumstances," he said with a slight bow before he disappeared in a beam of light.

"We'll meet again," Shaya told him coldly, shooting a quick glare at Ronon. "Until then, we'll be watching you."

With that parting remark she too vanished, leaving the Atlanteans staring at the empty hall.

"Well," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "This has been an eventful day."

"Aye," Carson nodded in agreement. "Which reminds me, I'll need you to report to the infirmary for a check-up, Colonel. I'd like to make sure that you're alright after the explosion and everything."

At that moment Rodney looked up from his laptop in alarm. "Um, Colonel, Elizabeth, I think you need to see this."

"What is it Rodney?" John asked impatiently. After the day he'd had he felt like going to bed and sleeping for a week.

Wordlessly, Rodney turned his laptop around and showed them the image on the screen.

Elizabeth frowned. "What are those?" she asked, pointing at the ring of twelve dots on the screen.

"Ships," Rodney replied anxiously. "Warships. They were here the whole time, we just couldn't see them until they uncloaked."

They all watched in relief as the ships drew away from Atlantis and disappeared into hyperspace.

"They must've brought their entire fleet," Rodney exclaimed in amazement.

John grimaced slightly. "I don't think they did," he replied quietly.


	8. To Market, To Market

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and associated characters don't belong to me.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate your support. (-:

****

"Twelve ships!" Thorac exclaimed furiously. "What were you thinking?"

"They were holding you prisoner," Shaya argued. "That is clearly an act of war and we would've been well within our rights to retaliate."

"By completely destroying an entire city and everyone inside it?" Thorac growled. "That's a massacre, not retaliation."

"It is when they are threatening to kill our leader," Shaya insisted stubbornly.

"My life is not worth the destruction of an entire city," Thorac protested.

"I think you underestimate your own importance," Shaya snapped.

"And I think you overestimate it," Thorac said firmly. "And don't even think about launching an attack on Atlantis," he added, watching her carefully. "I'll be very upset if one of our ships should 'accidentally' blow up the city."

"How am I supposed to keep this base safe if you won't let me launch pre-emptive strikes or retaliate?" Shaya complained angrily. "You won't even let me lure the Wraith Hive ships into our territory anymore."

Thorac sighed. "I appreciate your concern, really," he said gently. "You're an excellent commander for our forces, but sometimes it's advisable not to provoke your opponent."

Shaya snapped her fingers. "Exactly," she exclaimed. "They provoked us. We should teach them a lesson."

"Shaya," Thorac said sharply, shaking his head in frustration. "Look, maybe you need to find something more peaceful to do for a little while."

"You're removing me from command?" Shaya asked with a frown.

"No, of course not," Thorac reassured her. "It's just that it has been fairly quiet lately – apart from the incident with the Alanteans, of course," he noted quickly as Shaya opened her mouth to object. "Why don't you take a break for a few days? Take a couple of the Companions and go have some fun. I believe the Talthan Market is being held this month, perhaps you could do a bit of shopping?"

Shaya frowned thoughtfully, considering the idea. "Alright," she agreed finally. "But only for a couple of days. And you're to call me if there's any trouble."

Thorac nodded. "As you wish."

"Delan is in charge in my absence, so any small problems can be handled by him," Shaya continued. "I've stashed weapons in every room, just in case someone manages to get past all the technology you've got guarding this place. There's a list of people to contact if something goes wrong stored on the main database under 'Emergency'. The cook is away for the week, so if you feel like normal food you'll need to ask her brother Thomli to organise something for you…"

"Shaya, Shaya," Thorac interrupted loudly. "I managed to look after myself for several millennia before I met you. I'm sure I'll be fine for a couple of days."

Shaya snorted in amusement. "You lived in a cave for most of that time," she pointed out.

Thorac frowned. "It wasn't a cave, it was a Lantean outpost disguised as a cave," he protested.

"Then they did a little too good a job," Shaya said with a grin. "Because the only difference was all the junk you had lying around."

Thorac scowled at the notion of his precious technology being referred to as junk. "Just go already. I'll be fine," he insisted, gently ushering her towards the door. "Have fun."

"I'll bring you a souvenir," Shaya promised as she disappeared from view.

Thorac hastily ordered the door to lock behind her. With any luck he might have a couple of undisturbed days to work before they returned. And the Talthan Markets were the perfect place for Shaya to stay out of trouble while she forgot about the Atlanteans.

"It's a huge market that's held once a year," Teyla explained cheerfully. "All worlds are welcome there – except the Wraith of course. It'll be the perfect chance for us to meet new people and do some trading."

"What did you say they were called again?" Rodney asked distractedly.

"It's called the Talthan Market," Teyla told him patiently. "It means 'neutral meeting place' and it is the largest gathering in this galaxy each year. My people have gone there often to trade."

"I'm surprised that the Wraith haven't taken advantage of this Market," John remarked thoughtfully. "I mean, it'd be like an open smorgasbord for them."

"It is said that the Ancestors protect the planet from the Wraith for the duration of the markets," Teyla replied.

Rodney's eyes lit up. "Ancient technology, perhaps? Elizabeth, we've got to check this out. Manage being able to shield an entire planet."

Elizabeth nodded. "I agree. This is an excellent opportunity for us to find some new trading partners, especially after a couple of our old ones have been hit hard by the Wraith."

"It'll be nice to have a safe, peaceful mission for a change," John remarked. "I'm getting tired of everyone shooting at us as soon as we walk through the gate."

"They mightn't if you stop flirting with every woman you meet," Rodney suggested.

"Or if you wouldn't try to destroy their entire belief system or steal their technology," John returned sharply.

"Worshiping a ZPM does not count as a belief system," Rodney muttered crossly.

Kalak looked around the market with interest. It had been several years since he'd had an opportunity to visit the Talthan Markets, and a lot had changed in that time.

Usually the markets were run by a group of technicians from a nearby closed planet who had enough training to maintain the defence system that Thorac had set up several centuries ago. The Companions were considered too important to be put in charge of such a routine task, so they usually only went when things were quiet enough to take the time off.

"Do you think we should call Thorac and let him know we arrived safely?" Kilatha asked quietly.

Shaya looked at her in disbelief. "We just stepped through the Stargate," she replied patiently. "He saw us like 10 minutes ago."

Kalak grinned. "Even Shaya couldn't manage to get into trouble that quickly."

Shaya glared at him. "Remind me again why I asked you to come?"

"Look, a Kolatian stall," Colin exclaimed, pointing towards a brightly coloured pavilion set up under the shade of several trees. "I wonder if they have any new stories to record."

Kalak shook his head in wry amusement as Shaya had to grab Colin's arm to stop him disappearing into the stall. Colin was unrivalled in his fascination with other cultures. Kalak suspected that may have been part of the reason that he'd volunteered to become a Companion.

"Remember that we're to meet at the outpost in four hours," Shaya told Colin sternly. "I don't want to have to come and drag you away from some musty old storyteller just because you lost track of the time."

"That was just the once," Colin protested, pulling his arm away. "And you could've simply called me on the communicator."

"I did," Shaya reminded him. "You had it switched off."

"I'll be there," Colin said firmly. "You could always get Kalak to stay with me if you're worried though."

Kalak shuddered briefly at the thought. "I'm sure he'll be fine," he assured Shaya quickly. "You go have fun."

Colin smiled and vanished into the pavilion.

"Perhaps one of us should stay with him," Shaya suggested reluctantly, peering after Colin. "You know he gets when he's distracted by something."

Kalak shrugged. "You're welcome to stay and listen to incredibly boring tales about whatever people Colin's interested in at the moment," he offered.

There was a moments silence while Shaya and Kilatha looked at each other, then simultaneously shook their heads.

"He'll be fine," Shaya decided. "After all, what could possibly happen to him here?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'll think of something," Kalak remarked cheerfully. "But at least the gate is guarded so no one can try taking him offworld."

Shaya's expression darkened. "I should hope not," she muttered crossly. "One kidnapping a month is more than enough."

Kalak frowned. "I thought Thorac told you not to pursue the matter?"

Shaya sighed. "He did. Why do you think we're here? Notice how he 'suggested' that everyone who was involved with the Atlantean rescue take some time off to relax? He's hoping that we forget all about it."

"Perhaps that would be for the best?" Kalak suggested. "Thorac does look just like the other Wraith – it's understandable that they mightn't realise the difference."

'They were going to kill him, or worst," Shaya snarled angrily. "We shouldn't just let them get away with it."

"It's not a viable option in any case," Kalak pointed out. "I doubt the Atlantean's are stupid enough to try and seek us out, and Thorac certainly won't approve a trip back to their city."

"That's the irritating part," Shaya replied tiredly. "There's no way we can reach them without Thorac's approval. They're perfectly safe."

Kalak smiled. "True, but they don't know that. Just imagine how many sleepless nights they are having wondering if we're going to appear out of nowhere."

Shaya laughed. "I hope so. That is almost a perfect revenge in itself."

"So where were you planing to start?" Kalak asked, hoping to distract her. He gestured at the surrounding market which covered a clearing large enough to build a small town.

"Weapons," Shaya replied promptly, flashing a wraith-like smile.

"You promised we'd go clothes shopping," Kilatha pouted.

Shaya smiled at her reassuringly. "We will – after I go check out the weapons area."

"Wow, clothes and weapons," Kalak said dryly. "That sounds almost as exciting as keeping an eye on Colin."

"I take it you don't want to tag along?" Shaya asked with a grin.

"Uh, no, I'll pass thanks," Kalak replied hastily. "I'm sure I can find something to entertain myself, but you girls have fun. I'll see you at the outpost."

Shaya nodded and slipped away into the crowd, Kilatha following closely behind.

Kalak turned his attention back to the marketplace with a grin. He was sure that he'd seen a food stall around somewhere.

"So this is Talthan," John remarked, looking around at the teaming marketplace. It reminded him a bit of a mall on earth – one with a one day only half-price sale on all stock.

"It's busy," Rodney remarked, echoing John's thoughts.

Teyla nodded. "It is one of the few places guaranteed to be safe from the Wraith, even if only for a month. People from all across the galaxy come to trade here."

"So I see," John remarked, watching as a trio of woman dressed solely in feathers walked past. "Is there any stalls that we should avoid? People who might decide to kill us on sight?"

"The Talthan Markets are a neutral zone," Teyla replied with a shake of her head. "Violence is prohibited here, and the markets are heavily policed to ensure that the peace is kept."

"Who polices it?" Rodney wanted to know.

Teyla shrugged. "I could not say for sure. I believe that the markets are run by a nearby planet, but no one has ever visited them to find out."

"Why not?" John asked suspiciously.

"They do not have a Stargate," Teyla replied calmly. "It is thought that they fly here, but no one has ever seen their ship."

Rodney nodded thoughtfully. "Probably has cloaking capability," he remarked.

"I'm going to go look at the weapons stalls," Ronon announced suddenly, glancing around at the group. "Teyla, would you like to come?"

Teyla smiled at him. "Thank you, but I promised my people that I'd find some new cloths for them."

Ronon nodded, and looked quizzically at John.

John sighed and nodded. "Alright go, but stay out of trouble."

"Always," Ronon replied before disappearing into the crowd.

"I'd like to have a look around, see if I can find what's producing the shield for the planet," Rodney said thoughtfully, studying the energy readings on his scanner.

"Teyla, will you be alright looking at cloth on your own?" John asked her.

Teyla nodded. "Of course," she replied confidently. "As I said before, we are quite safe here."

"In that case, I'll go with Rodney and make sure that he doesn't annoy too many people," John decided. "Radio us if you have any trouble."

Teyla nodded and slipped away.

"I don't annoy people," Rodney protested. "I merely drive them into fits of jealously with my brilliance."

John rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Rodney."

"That's him," Shaya hissed suddenly, pulling Kilatha behind a stall.

"Who?" Kilatha asked, looking around in confusion. There were a lot of people to choose from.

"Over there, by the store with the pulse guns," Shaya replied urgently. "That's the giant from Atlantis."

"Huh," Kilatha muttered thoughtfully. "He doesn't look as big as I remember."

Shaya frowned at her. "Of course he looks smaller," she said impatiently. "We're proper size now, remember?"

"Right," Kilatha replied, glancing out at the giant. "Should we go say hello?"

Shaya stared at her as if she'd grown two heads – which was a distinct possibility in the Pegasus Galaxy. She opened her mouth, and then paused. A malicious smile spread across her face and she reached for her stunner. "Why yes, I think we should go say hello," she replied smoothly.

Kilatha frowned and grabbed her arm. "That's not a good idea," she protested. "No violence during the markets, remember? Besides, I don't think Thorac will be pleased."

"It's not like I'm going to hurt him," Shaya reassured her. "We're just going to have a little chat."

"With your stunner?" Kilatha asked sceptically.

"Just a precaution," Shaya replied cheerfully. "I have a feeling that he's not going to be overwhelmed with joy to see us again."

"I wonder why?" Kilatha muttered sarcastically as she followed Shaya around the stalls, taking care to stay out of the giant's sight. She almost wished that she'd volunteered to stay with Colin.

"Wait," she said urgently to Shaya as they crouched behind the stall directly behind the giant. "If Ronon's here, then chances are that the rest of his team are around here somewhere. They're not going to be happy if we wander off with a member of their team."

"Good," Shaya replied unfeelingly. "Then they'll know how it feels. Besides, we are well within our rights to seek retribution for the capture and mistreatment of one of our people."

Kilatha sighed softly. Unfortunately, Shaya was right. The Laws of Engagement stated that the Protectorate was entitled to act in retaliation for perceived acts of war. And while Thorac was inclined to be lenient, Shaya was the Commander of the Forces, and as such entitled to act to eliminate a threat to the Protectorate. Besides, as the oldest of the twenty Companions, Shaya clearly outranked Kilatha, who was the youngest.

Shaya silently slipped out of hiding and moved to stand behind the giant. "Hello again," she said cheerily, a dangerous smile gracing her lips.

Ronon spun around, instantly prepared for battle. "Who are you?" he asked in bewilderment.

"You don't recognise me?" Shaya pouted. "I'm hurt."

Ronon's eyes narrowed. "You're that annoying kid – the Wraith worshiper."

"Oh, so you do remember me. Good, that'll make things much easier," Shaya replied with a grin.

Growling, Ronon reached for his gun. Shaya quickly fired the stunner she'd concealed in her hand.

"Shaya!" Kilatha exclaimed in dismay as she regarded the fallen giant. "You promised that you wouldn't hurt him."

"I was provoked," Shaya said firmly. "You saw him reaching for his gun. And he's only stunned. He'll be fine in about an hour. Now help me get him back to the outpost before someone notices."

Kilatha sighed. "What are you going to do with him?" she asked reluctantly. "Thorac won't be impressed if you hurt him."

Shaya just smiled toothily. "I think I'm going to collect the entire set," she said cheerfully.

Rodney wove his way around the crowded marketplace, his attention fixed on the readings from his scanner. There were several large energy signatures that had caught his attention, though he kept getting sidetracked by Ancient devices that were for sale at the various stalls.

"Find anything yet?" John asked him impatiently.

Rodney shrugged. "I'm not sure. There seem to be several signatures arranged around the outskirts of the marketplace. The largest is coming from that building over there," he replied, pointing towards a large white dome shaped building that was set back slightly from the rest of the market.

John nodded thoughtfully. "Excuse me," he said to a nearby stallholder. "We're new here, and my friend and I were just wondering what that building over yonder is." He gestured towards the building in question.

The stallholder peered in the direction that John had indicated. "Ah," he replied. "That's the building of the Ancestors. It's from there that they watch over the markets and guard against the Wraith."

"Do you think we could get a closer look?" John asked the man hopefully. "My friend is very interested in the work of the Ancestors."

The man shook his head. "The Ancestors don't allow visitors. They say that it will distract them from their task."

"Wait a minute," Rodney said in excitement. "You've actually spoken to them?"

"Well, not me personally," the stallholder clarified. "But they often address the crowds. If you're lucky they might choose to speak during your stay here."

"Do you think they might be actual Ancients?" Rodney asked John in excitement.

John shrugged warily. "It's possible," he admitted. "But they may just have the ATA gene and are posing as Ancients."

"Either way, they have access to fairly advanced technology," Rodney pointed out, staring longingly at the tower. "I wonder if they'd be willing to make an exception. If I had a chance to study the device they're using to protect the planet I might be able to manufacture one of our own."

"Most people don't appreciate you dismantling their machines in an attempt to figure out how it works," John pointed out.

"I put them back together again," Rodney reminded him. "And it couldn't hurt to just ask them."

John sighed. "Alright, but if they say no that's the end of it, understand?"

Rodney nodded vaguely. "Sure, whatever," he agreed with a wave of his hand, already beginning to make his way towards the building.

John glanced around carefully, checking for any sign of danger, before reluctantly following Rodney.


	9. Bait

Ronon shifted uncomfortably as he slowly regained consciousness. A bleary glance at his surroundings indicated that he was in a cell much like the one in Atlantis.

With a growl he lunged to his feet, looking around for an opponent – any opponent. To his frustration there was no sign of the annoying girl who had stunned him, or of anybody else for that matter. He was completely alone in the cell.

Pacing irritably in order to work off the after effects of the stunner – it had been a strong blast – he methodically checked the sides of the cell for any sign of weakness. Finding none, he chose to focus his attention on the door.

Lifting the heavy ornate wooden bench that had been placed against one of the walls, he rammed it at the door, hoping to loosen it from its hinges. Unfortunately the only result was an electrical flare as the cell's force field repelled the impact and sent the bench rebounding to the floor.

Shaking his arm to recover from the rebound, Ronon picked up the bench and rammed it at the door again, and again, and again…

Rodney stood next to John and stared up at the building in front of them. The energy readings coming from it were incredible, but probably the most noticeable feature about it was the complete absence of a door.

"So, how do we get in?" John asked him impatiently.

"How should I know?" Rodney protested. "It's not like the Ancients left a set of blueprints lying around for me to find."

"You've been staring at that scanner for twenty minutes now," John pointed out in his 'I'm trying to be patient' voice.

"Useful as the scanners may be, they are not a miracle solution to all things," Rodney snapped crossly. "And they are certainly not intended for opening strange buildings."

John shrugged. "I just thought that you would've come up with a solution by now,' he replied placidly.

Rodney sighed. "Isn't it your turn to think of a solution – preferably one that doesn't involve explosives?"

"Alright," John said thoughtfully, studying the building. "Why don't we knock and see if anyone's home?"

Rodney spluttered in protest as John walked up to the building and rapped his hand against the smooth surface. "That's not going to work…" he began, and then stopped in surprise as John's hand passed through the surface of the building.

John grinned in delight. "It's just an illusion," he said cheerfully.

Rodney frowned at the readings on his scanner. The energy signature definitely wasn't consistent with that of a holographic projection. In fact, the scanner was reading the surface as 100 percent solid.

"Be careful with that," he warned John. "You don't want to spend six months trapped inside a building."

John paused at that. "Why would the ancients build such a small place to learn to ascend in?"

Rodney shrugged. "Why did the ancients build half the things they did? They weren't exactly a logical race."

John smirked. "Just because you have no idea how half their stuff works doesn't mean that it's illogical. Anyway, the local said that there were people living here, so it's reasonably safe to assume that this isn't some elaborate ancient trap."

"Fine, but you get to explain your reasoning to Elizabeth if the building tries to eat us," Rodney retorted, moving to join John next to the building.

"Fair enough," John nodded, reaching out to touch the building. As before the surface yielded to his touch. He glanced at Rodney. "Wait for 20 seconds then follow me," he instructed.

Rodney nodded solemnly, and watched as John took a deep breath and walked through the surface. The twenty seconds seemed to stretch on for eternity as Rodney waited impatiently.

Finally the time limit was reached and he stepped into the wall – only to bounce off a hard and undoubtedly solid surface. "Ow!" he complained, rubbing his forehead in pain. "What on earth?"

He poked at the surface and found that it remained unyielding. He carefully tried several spots, including the exact location that John had passed through the wall at, but the wall refused to let him through.

Finally he gave it up as a lost cause and radioed for Teyla.

"Yes?" she said, sounding distracted.

'Teyla, it's Rodney," he said briskly. "Sheppard's managed to get himself in trouble again. Could you get Ronon and meet me at the large building on the edge of the marketplace?"

There was a pause, and then Teyla replied. "Certainly Rodney," she said calmly. "We'll be there shortly."

Rodney sighed and sat down to study the readings on his scanner. The building surface was still registering as a solid, so John must've done something that made it change to a liquid state on contact. He tried to think back on all the things that John might've touched to produce such an effect, but gave it up as a lost cause. John touched anything that was shiny or colourful – much like an overgrown kid with no survival instincts.

It was a considerable while later when Teyla finally turned up alone and looking concerned. "I can't find Ronon anywhere," she announced. "He's not answering his radio and no one seems to have seen him."

Rodney frowned. "Great, that means that two of our team members are missing. I thought you said this planet was harmless?"

Teyla nodded. "Violence is prohibited," she confirmed. "I am sure that no harm has come to our team mates. Ronon is probably exploring the market, and John is…where is John again?"

Wordlessly Rodney pointed at the building.

Teyla walked over to it and pressed her hand against the cool surface. "How did he get inside?" she asked in bewilderment.

"He just walked straight through," Rodney replied gesturing at the building in frustration. "I can't reach him on his radio either – the building seems to be blocking the signal."

"Can you open it?" Teyla asked him in concern.

Rodney shook his head. "The technology is similar to Ancient design, but it is different enough that the scanner can't identify most of it. I'd need a lot more equipment and several weeks at least."

Teyla looked serious. "John may not have that much time."

Rodney groaned. "I know that, but I can't change the laws of physics. New technology requires time to understand, no matter how urgent the situation."

Teyla nodded. "I understand. Perhaps we should contact Atlantis and ask Dr Weir to send a science team and some equipment through."

"Alright," Rodney agreed, climbing to his feet. "And some marines to start looking for Ronon. I don't want to have to search the entire market just because he's off drooling over some new weapon."

John stumbled slightly as he pulled free of the illusionary wall and found himself in a brightly lit hallway that curved away in either direction. It was a terrible design from a military standpoint – an enemy could be standing feet away and completely out of sight.

He quickly checked both directions as far as he could within twenty seconds, and once he was reassured that it was safe he waited impatiently for Rodney to follow him through. After about a minute he figured he'd better go see what had happened to the scientist – Elizabeth wouldn't be very impressed if he managed to lose the Chief Science Officer on a 'safe' planet.

To his surprise, the illusion that had easily allowed him to enter refused to let him leave. The wall felt like solid metal – there was no visible way out. Frowning, John checked the wall at regular intervals along the hall, but there was no change.

With a sigh, John decided to go look for another way out. Surely the Ancients hadn't been insane enough to build two time enclosures… Besides, Rodney would find a way to get him out – eventually.

Choosing the hallway to the right to follow, he cautiously set off in that direction, being careful to check the doorways leading off the hallway for any sign of inhabitants.

He'd made it about halfway around the building before he heard voices. Ducking into a nearby room, he crouched next to the door – ready to attack if necessary. Listening intently, he frowned to himself as he realised that the voices seemed familiar…

"He won't stop attacking the door," Kilatha said anxiously. "I'm afraid he's going to hurt himself."

"He'll be fine," Shaya replied, her footsteps echoing as she walked briskly along the corridor. "Besides, we'll be moving him shortly, and I'll make sure that there's nothing loose in his next cell."

"There was nothing loose in this cell," Kilatha protested. "That bench was bolted to the floor."

"In that case it's his own fault if he gets injured," Shaya replied. "Anyway, it's only for a short time – we'll get him back to Lathuria and wait until the Atlanteans discover that he's missing. Then they'll get the address to that planet with the faulty Stargate from the guard at the gate and we can send Ronon after them. It's the perfect revenge – no one gets hurt, and Thorac won't even have to know."

Kilatha sighed. "I don't see why we can't just send Ronon through first," she complained.

"Because if something goes wrong, I don't want to have to fly out there and fetch him," Shaya pointed out. "Dr McKay should be able to fix the gate after a couple of days, the giant can't."

"I still say this is a bad idea," Kilatha argued as they passed by John's location and continued down the hall.

John stood up silently as their voices faded into the distance. So Thorac's people were here and they had Ronon, he thought furiously to himself. Although Thorac and John had parted on fairly good terms, it seemed that his people were inclined to hold a grudge.

Checking that the hallway was clear once again, he slipped out and headed the direction that the girls had gone. If Ronon was a prisoner here then John intended to find him.

It turned out that Ronon's cell wasn't that far away – John narrowly avoided been spotted by the girls on their way back. Slipping into the room, he found that the cell was empty. A small wagon-like vehicle hovered to one side of the room though, and he wandered across to have a look at it.

Inside, disguised as a large crate of vegetables, he found an unconscious Ronon. Even in his sleep the large man managed to look dangerous. John hastily considered his options. Ronon was too heavy for John to move, and even if he could get him out of the wagon he still would be trapped inside the building.

He eyed the contents of the wagon thoughtfully. There was a second large crate that actually contained vegetables. John grinned slightly. They didn't really need that many vegetables, surely.

He emptied the crate into a nearby cupboard and hid inside. This way, when Ronon regained consciousness John would be in a position to help him escape.

Rodney scowled at the gate in frustration. They'd contacted Atlantis only to be informed that there was a mild outbreak of the plague, and the gate was refusing to dial out.

For the moment, they were on their own.

"We'd better go back to the building that John's stuck in," Teyla said softly. "Perhaps he has managed to find a way out."

Rodney shook his head gloomily. "If he had then he would have radioed us by now. And we still have to find Ronon and let him know what's going on."

Teyla nodded. "Alright. Do you want to split up to save time?"

Rodney considered this for a moment and then shook his head vehemently. "If we spilt up then we mightn't find one another again. We're better off sticking together."

"In that case I suggest that we start with the weapons stalls," Teyla recommended. "Ronon indicated that he was going to spend some time there – perhaps someone has seen him."

Rodney nodded and they started to weave their way across the busy marketplace. Not far from the weapons stalls though, Teyla grabbed Rodney's arm and pulled him to a halt.

"Over there," she hissed, pointing towards a man standing in front of one of the stalls. "That's Kalak."

Rodney squinted at the man. "Are you sure?" he asked her. "He looks a lot older than I remember."

Teyla nodded. "I am certain. Thorac must've fed off him."

"What's he doing here?" Rodney mused, puzzled. His eyes widened as a thought came to him. "You don't think that he's responsible for Ronon's and John's disappearance?"

"It is possible," Teyla shrugged.

"It's extremely likely," Rodney said firmly. "I bet that if we follow him he'll lead us to wherever they're keeping them."

Kalak actually led them around most of the market instead, prompting Teyla to suggest that maybe he was simply shopping. Rodney was adamant that he was up to no good though, so they continued to track him for most of the afternoon.

Finally, he headed back to the Stargate, where he met up with Col, Shaya and Kilatha.

"See!" Rodney exclaimed quietly to Teyla. "They're all here. It can't be a coincidence."

"It does seem unlikely," Teyla admitted reluctantly. "But I don't see any sign of John or Ronon."

Rodney waved this away. "They've probably already transported them back to Thorac's lair," he reasoned.

They watched carefully as the Companions dialled the gate – Rodney making sure to note the address.

"What should we do?" Teyla asked once the wormhole vanished.

Rodney frowned. "We can't wait until Atlantis finds the cure to this disease or whatever that they've got – it might take weeks. We'll have to go after them."

"Shouldn't we at least let Atlantis know where we're going?" Teyla asked in concern.

Rodney shook his head. "There's no time. If we don't leave now we won't be able to follow them to wherever they're going. We'll leave a message near the gate for them to find once they can travel offworld again."

Teyla nodded doubtfully. "You are right," she agreed reluctantly. "We can't afford to wait while John and Ronon are in danger. They would do the same for us."

Rodney hastily programmed a message into his scanner and hid it in the trees near the gate. It was designed to emit a certain frequency that would register on another scanner – he'd gotten tired of never been able to find his.

He then punched the address that the Companions had travelled to into the DHD and together they stepped into the Stargate.

Deep inside his lab, Thorac looked up with a puzzled frown as the gate sensors registered the arrival of four unauthorised visitors.


End file.
